I've been watching you
by HidekoChan90
Summary: **Sequal to Stranger & Love, Lust and Jelousy** Misty and Brock are happily married, but terror strikes them when strange things happen around the house. Misty's mother, Rose Vaughn, comes to visit and convinces them to let her stay while she recovers from her drug habit, but when she starts sleeping with Brock's dad, tempers run short. Rated M for mature.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The day Misty Harrison had been dreading all summer had finally come. The day that preschool started, and her daughter, Fiona, would spend her first full day away from her. Fiona would be attending the Pichu Learning Center at the edge of the Pewter City line. Brock had also attended that school as a child and insisted that Fiona go as well, to give her a headstart on Kindergarten, but Misty wasn't ready for her to grow up just yet.

Misty packed up a backpack, decorated with cute baby Fire Pokemon. Charmanders. Torchics. Vulpixes. And Tepigs. Brock had tried to talk her into a backpack with Rock Pokemon, which was widely availale in Pewter City, but Fiona had insisted on Fire pokemon. She had always liked them best.

Misty didn't bother trying to get the girl to like water Pokemon.

Brock kissed his wife on the forehead, before taking an appreciative sip of his favourite Cerulean City Coffee.

"Bye Honey, I have to get to the gym," he said. "I'm scheduled for an early match up with some kid from Vermillion. Should be a pretty easy match, seeing as he's probably got an electric type."

Misty looked up at him from her kneeling position, filling the bag with crayons, coloring books and tissues.

"You're not going to see Fiona off to school with me?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, Honey, I can't," he kissed her lips softly as she stood up, abandoning the backpack against the staircase. "I'll be home tonight and Fiona can tell me all about her first day of school."

She looked up into his eyes and smiled a weak, forced smile. "This isn't easy for me."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said, using his name of affection he had always used with her. Ever since that night out on Valencia Island, when they had first admitted they had feelings for eachother. The night before he left her to stay on the island with Professor Felina Ivy for 8 long months while she traveled around The Orange Islands with Ash and that crazy guy, Tracey Sketchit, who she had to end up shooting because he was going to kill Brock.

He had been in a fit of rage, and jealousy, and if she hadn't shot him...

Well, Brock would have died that day. She didn't like to think about it.

"But hey," he said, lifting her gaze up to meet his eyes. "Fiona is still our little baby. And now she's old enough to where we can start thinking about having another."

Misty smiled up at him as he brought her in for another kiss, a sensually slow kiss that said she was in for a long, romantic night tonight. When he pulled back from the kiss, he looked at her with a look that made her knees quiver just thinking about what he was going to do to her.

Her moment of short-lived when she heard her daughter coming down the stairs entirely too fast.

"Mommy! Are we ready to go?" She asked, dressed in an all purple outfit with a Charmander on the shirt.

"We're ready," she said. "And what have I told you about running down the stairs?"

"Bye Fiona," Brock kissed the top of his daughter's head. "You be good and listen to Mommy, OK? And be good at school, too, OK?"

She nodded that she understood and Brock stood up straight, leaving through the front door. Misty slipped on her shoes and led her daughter out the same door just a few seconds later and watched Brock drive down the street towards the Pewter Gym to be there on time for his match.

She headed the opposite way, across town, passed the Pokemon Center until she saw the building on the right. The Pichu Learning Center. _Where young minds can explore and grow_. Fiona sat in the backseat, already pulling out her crayons and coloring.

She parked the car and got out, lifting Fiona from her carseat and leading her inside through the double doors to the main office. An older woman sat behind the counter, and she smiled at Misty as she entered the door.

"Good morning," the woman said.

"Good morning, "Misty replied, holding Fiona's hand. "We're looking for Mrs. Castillo's class."

"It's right through the doors, first room on your left," The woman pulled out a clipboard. "I just need you to sign your daughter in, and she will need to be signed out everyday. It's to keep the children safe."

She smiled, her lipstick a dark bergundy that Misty always noticed older women wore.

Misty signed Fiona in and then took her into the hallway, seeing a doorway with a hand written sign, decorated with glitter and markers that said "Mrs. Castillo."

The preschool room was much more vibrtant with color than the office had been, and all the colors had caught Fiona's eye. She looked around, taking it all in, then looked up at Misty.

"Mommy, let's go play!" She practically dragged her into the room, and Misty had discovered she wasn't the only parent in there that day. It made her feel a little better, knowing that perhaps she wasn't the only one having a hardtime letting go.

A young woman with light brown skin, dark hair and dark eyes smiles at Misty.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Castillo." She offered her hand and Misty took it.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Harrison. This is my daughter Fiona," she said. "Say Hi, Fiona."

"Hi," The little girl said shyly, suddenly clinging tightly to her mother, and looking up at the strange woman. She had always been somewhat shy around strangers, but Misty hoped she wouldn't cry the moment she left.

"You can go and play if you like," Mrs. Castillo told Fiona, and the little girl looked hesitantly at the other kids. Some were at tables, scribbling with markers, and some were building with legos, while others watched a video with some puppets singing a song.

"Mommy, will you come with me?" She asked, looking up at her mother with sad, puppy-dog eyes. The kind of eyes she always used when she really wanted something. Like when she wanted the Fire Pokemon bag instead of the Rock Pokemon one.

"Is it OK if I stay for a little bit?" Misty questioned, and Mrs. Castillo nodded her head.

"Of course. The first day can be hard on everyone, so we allow a few moments just to get used to things," she said, and Misty followed Fiona further into the classroom. The other children made no immediate move to include her in whatever they were doing. Fiona pulled out a plastic container from one of the cubby holes and discovered flash cards with pictures and words underneath them.

"So what do you think, Fiona?" Misty asked, kneeling down, not quite wanting to sit. She didn't want Fiona to get used to the idea of her staying here all day.

"It's fun," she said, flatly. Taking out a picture of a cartoon car, and then putting it back.

"Sweety, I have to go, OK?" She smiled at her, kissing her forehead and standing up.

"What?" Fiona looked up, her bottom lip started to quiver and Misty shook her head.

"No, Fiona, please don't cry. I won't be gone that long," MIsty tried to say, but it was too late. Tears were already streaming down her face, the flashcards forgotten in the floor and she clung tight to Misty's legs, so tight that she thought she might lose circulation.

Mrs. Castillo noticed and smiled, noticing the look of pure anxiety on Misty's face.

"Oh, this is perfectly normal," she said, offering Fiona a stuffed Charmander doll. "A lot of kids do this on the first and sometimes even the second day of preschool. But it's better to get it out now instead of the first day of kindergarten. They get used to being separated from their parents."

Misty felt a lump rise in her throat, but she wouldn't dare cry here. Not in front of Fiona. Not in front of everyone else. She got Fiona over to a desk, along with the stuffed Charmander and sat her down, kneeling beside her.

"Look, Fiona, why don't you color me a pretty picture?" She asked, and the four year old little girl picked up her pack of crayons and started to color, wiping her tear-stained face with her sleeve. The room was filled with parents right now, but she knew that they would all have to leave soon.

As Fiona colored, Misty's eyes fell on a little girl at a desk by herself. She concentrated on a picture she was coloring and she didn't have any parents with her. She seemed to be adjusted well, but she couldn't help but notice her lack of friends. She hoped Fiona would make friends by the end of the day.

Misty stood up again, noticing that the clasroom was quickly emptying of adults, and she knew she had to be gone very soon.

"I have to go, Sweety," she said, and Fiona looked as if she was about to cry again. "I'll be back really soon. When the little hand is on the 3, I'll be back to get you."

Fiona looked up at the clock. It was only on the 10 right now and she didn't know when it would reach the three, but her mother was already leaving through the door, and she didn't understand why she was left here, with all of these other kids. They weren't like the kids in her neighborhood, who she had invited to play in the pool this summer. They seemed to ignore her, and she just kept to herself.

And she didn't know who this Mrs. Castillo was. All she knew was that it wasn't her mother.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The air started turning colder in Pewter City, and each morning Misty found that getting Fiona to school was becoming easier and easier by the day. Fiona didn't cry as much, or ask to her stay around the classroom as long. This morning, Fiona didn't even have her mother walk her to class. Misty had returned home after dropping Fiona off at school. The house was empty, and a mess. Dusting, and dishes needed to be done, along with laundry and vaccuming.

By noon, the late September air seemed to warm up a bit. She was busy putting clean bed sheets on the bed when she heard the front door open. She walked half way down the balcony stairs and saw Brock had walked through the door, flipping his keys around on his finger absently as he looked down at the newspaper.

"Brock, you're home early!" She said, smiling. Their Eevee, who was just a pup, came out of Fiona's room where she had been sleeping since Fiona went to school that morning.

"Yea, not many matches scheduled for the next few hours," his eyes traveled from her pretty face to her long legs, that she was showing off in a pair of jogging shorts. "I figured I could come home and kill some time here."

He kissed her, nudging her up the stairs to their bedroom and pushing her back onto the bed.

"I just washed the sheets," Misty said, not really wanting to mess them up, as Brock unbuckled his jeans, letting them hit in the floor with a loud clank. Then she him standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers, and she didn't care how the bed looked.

"Good. Sex is always better on clean sheets," he kissed her softly, stripping off her shorts and panties in one swift motion, and lifting her top up to kiss her naval and let his tongue taste her sweet skin there.

She giggled and looked down at him. "That tickles!"

He chuckled, giving her a handsome grin as he looked up at her. "I know another place I can tickle you at."

She closed her eyes, and threw her head back as she felt his soft, skilled tongue taste her. He kissed her there, sensually and smiled at the way she moaned and squirmed beneath him.

"You can be as loud as you want," he reminded her, loving the way she was begging him to take her.

She felt him thrust deep inside her, and she pulled him down , kissing him, enjoying the feeling of his weight on top of her, and the slightly painful pleasure. He lifted himself up, grinning down at her, he placed both of her ankles on his shoulders and thrust himself as hard as he could inside of her.

"God, I fucking love you," he whispered, kissing her smooth legs, the sounds she was making were driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Then a voice came from the doorway of the bedroom.

"Don't you know that's how you got pregnant in first place, Misty?"

Brock almost didn't notice it at first, but nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a woman standing near the door. She was red-headed, older, and wore a fitting black dress with white buttons that served to purpose other than looks down the middle.

Misty's haze-filled mind took a moment to register, and she shreiked, grasping for the quilt that was abandoned on the floor to cover herself up with. Brock fumbled around for something, anything, to cover himself up with. He held his shirt over his erection -or what was left of it- and looked at the woman standing in his doorway.

"W-who are you?" He asked, then looked at Misty who was staring at the woman, a look of shock on her face.

"It's my mother..." she said, clutching the quilt tighter to her chest.

"You really should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just walk into this beautiful home and steal something..." She grinned, and put her sunglasses up on her head. "Or catch you having very hot sex."

Brock reached down and picked up his pants, careful not to turn around and let his wife's mother -who he had never met- get a glance at his ass.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Misty asked, trying to wash away the embarassment she felt.

"I was in town, and Violet told me you lived here, which I figured since I heard you married Flint Harrison's son," she smiled at him and offered her hand. "I'm Rose Vaughn."

Brock shook her hand with his free hand, realizing her was still standing in front of her completely naked, except for the balled up tshirt around his junk.

"I have to say, Misty," Rose said, sitting down in the chair in front of Misty's vanity, checking her reflection. Beautiful as ever. "I didn't really know what you would see in any guy from Pewter City, but you got yourself a real hottie, here."

"Mom, can...can we at least get dressed?" She asked, and Rose stood up, blushing a bit.

"Oh of course. I'll just go downstairs and put on a pot of coffee," she waved at them and left the room and Misty looked over at Brock, who let the shirt fall away. He fell onto the bed next to her and sighed.

"Oh my God, this is embarassing," Brock said, and Misty leaned over.

"It's not that bad, really...she's seen my sister's doing worse," she said, and Brock looked at her, through tired eyes.

"I've never met this woman before. She didn't even know what I looked like, and the first time she sees me, I'm fucking the hell out of her daughter. I probably looked like the horny midget from Austin Powers!" He chuckled. "She probably hates me."

"She's not like other moms..." Misty said, wincing uncomfortably. "She's very open about sex and stuff like that. She thinks there is something wrong with couples who don't have sex reguarly. And you don't look anything like that midget."

As they finished getting dressed, a voice called from the bottom of the staircase. "Oh, when you two are done having sex, can you please fix up the guest bedroom for me? I do want to get a shower and perhaps read a bit before dinner."

"Guest bedroom?" Brock buckled his belt.

"Oh God, she's staying here?" Misty buried her face in her hands and Brock looked down.

"Well, I'm going to have blue balls for a week..." he sighed, and exited the room, smiling down at Rose. "Of course." He called down to her in a louder voice than what he was using to speak to his wife. He then turned to face Misty and pulled her aside into the guest bedroom.

"We'll just kick her out tomorrow, and tell her she can't stay here," Misty said, pulling blankets from the closet.

"Misty, you haven't seen your mother in forever..." Brock told her, as if she needed a reminder. "Don't you want her to stay?"

"Not really," he voice was barely over a whisper. "I haven't seen her since I was 16. I'm 23 years old. She hasn't spoken to me in 9 years and then she just shows up...in my bedroom...while I'm screwing my husband? That doesn't even make sense."

Brock sighed, and fluffed up the pillows on the bed.

"I should have locked the door," he smoothed out the sheets on the bed. "Alright, we'll tell her she has to get a hotel tomorrow, but she's here right now, so let's try to be polite."

Misty glared at him, annoyed. "You are so much of a better person than I am."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into the hallway. "That's why we make such a perfect team. A perfect balance."

Rose rounded the corner from the kitchen, with a can of Cerulean Coffee in her hands. "Oh, I didn't know people in Pewter City drank our world famous coffee! It's absolutely exquisite isn't it?"

"It's my favorite!" Brock announced, pleased to see the coffee pot was almost done brewing. "You want a cup, honey?"

"I can't," she said, checking the clock. "I have to go pick up Fiona. It's already past 2:30, and she cries if I'm even a moment late."

"Well," Brock looked at Misty and then back at her mother. "I can go get her. I mean, if you want to stay here and spend some time with your mother. I have to be back at the gym at 4 o'clock anyway."

Misty glared at him again. No, she had wanted to leave, but what was she supposed to do now? Brock poured himself some coffee in a thermos and grabbed his jacket, kissing Misty goodbye, he waved at Rose and rushed out the door. He wanted to make it there early so Fiona wouldn't cry, thinking they had forgotten about her.

Misty heard his truck pull out and then he was gone, and she was alone, with her mother. She decided to have a cup of coffee, though she was pretty sure she needed something other than coffee to get through this awkward conversation she knew she was about to have with her mother.

"So," Rose said, warming her hands on the coffee mug. "Do you and Brock typically have sexy afternoons like this?"

"Mom," Misty rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you," Rose said, smiling at her, tossing her long red hair, much like Misty's behind her shoulder.

"Mom, you haven't seen me in 9 years," Misty said, and Rose looked down at her coffee, straight black and bold. She knew this was coming, and she knew it had been long overdue. "I was 16 when you last saw me, and even then you were only there to see Violet, Daisy and Lilly. You barely even spoke to me."

"Darling, I was a different person back then," Rose said, softly, seeing the anger welling up in her daughter like this.

"You didn't even bother to talk to me. Or even try. You didn't ask me who I had a crush on. What I liked. What my hobbies were. Things that mothers are supposed to ask their daughters...you didn't ask anything about me. It wasn't like I never existed!" Misty clenched her fists, and tears threatened to sting her eyes.

"Misty, I am so sorry," Rose reached out to touch her cheek, but Misty recoiled, almost in disgust.

"I don't know," she said, looking at her from across her kicthen. "I really don't know you. You're just the lady who gave birth to me, but you aren't really my mother."

Rose watched her, waiting for her to continue. She knew Misty needed to get things off of her chest.

"You didn't come to my wedding when I married Brock in Porta Vista," she said. "And I know, -I know- Violet or someone told you about it. Brock almost got killed by some crazy bitch who was obsessed with him. Did you hear about that one?"

"I couldn't make it to your wedding, Sweety," Rose said, shaking her head. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Misty. I really am. I want to make it up to you."

"What about when I was pregnant?" Misty placed her hands on her hips. "Brock's mother threw me a baby shower, and talked to me when I was scared. And she came to the hospital with me. And she helped me take care of Fiona when she was sick, and she told me how to check the temparature of her bottle, and how to bathe her...and..." she trailed off as tears stramed down her face.

"Misty...I..."

"All the things that you were supposed to do for me!" Misty cut her off, wiping the tears from her face. "And now, you just show up and expect to let you stay here?"

"Misty," Rose got up from her seat the kitchen island, placing her coffee cup aside. "I'm sorry for everything that I did, or didn't do. I've made mistakes, honey. I have not been the best mother to you, or any of you girls, really."

She grabbed her daughter's hands and Misty had let her. No matter how much she hated her mother, she still had this need to have a relationship with her.

"Where were you, Mom?" Misty asked, her eyes fixed on her mother's face. She was still youthful in a lot of ways, but she could tell she had still aged a lot in last 9 years.

"I have nowhere else to go," Rose said, this time, tears were welling up in her eyes. "I couldn't make it to your wedding, because I was in a hospital..."

"A hospital?" Misty asked.

Rose nodded. "Rehab. I was in rehab," she saw the look of shock on Misty's face.

"For...for what?" She asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"I met a man when I was traveling the world," she smiled a little, and wiped away a tear from her eyes. "I was in love, but he had a problem. A drug problem. One night, I got really drunk, and I tried it, and after that I was hooked."

"What...drug was it?" Misty hesitated on the question.

"Cocaine," Rose answered, hiding her shameful face behind the coffee mug, but then she looked at her daughter straight in eyes. "I was addicted to cocaine."

Misty shook her head. "Mom, why didn't you tell me? Do the others know about this? Have you told any of my sisters?"

Rose nodded her head, shamefully. "Violet is the one who got me put into rehab. Charley was abusing me -he was the man who got me hooked, the man I loved- anyway, Violet found out about it and got me into rehab so I wouldn't die."

"H-how long were you in there?" Misty asked, noticing the age on her mother's pretty face.

"6 years," her mother replied. "I was released 6 months ago, but with Daisy being pregnant now, and Violet running the gym...Lilly's got the baby now...I just...I had nowhere to go. Misty, you're the only daughter left that has a place where I can stay."

"Mom, I have a 4 year old daughter," she said. "I can't..."

"You can trust me, sweetheart," Rose grabbed her wrist and smiled. "I'm done with drugs. I swear. I don't even drink anymore. I won't hurt your baby. Don't be like Lilly and think I'll bring drugs around your baby."

"I-I have to talk to Brock about this," she said. "Before I can let you stay here. We have to make this decision together."

"I understand," Rose finished off her coffee. "It's your home, together. And you have a precious baby to protect. Can I atleast get a shower and something to eat?"

Misty nodded silently and her mother smiled, in her elegant way. She always had a way to maintain her dignity about her, no matter what was going on her life. She supposed that's why she had went through so many men in her life. She had an elegant charm about her, like an old hollywood starlet, or a New York Socialite. And she was pretty, and she knew it.

Still, Misty was't sure how felt about her mother staying there with them. After all, she hardly knew the woman.

...

Fiona looked at the clock, nervously. The little hand was already on the three, and it had taken forever to get there, but it finally did, and her eyes scanned the room for her mother. Other children had gotten a big yellow bus to go home, and still other children were being picked up by their parents, but where were hers at?

They had gathered the children in the gymnasium, where Fiona had class just a short hour ago, and parents were lined up, single file by the door, picking up their children, one by one. The loud echoes in the gym, of the other kids playing as they waited, made her more nervous. She sat by the wall, her legs hugged to her chest.

Brock waited in line in the hallway, trying to look over people's shoulders to see if he could see his daughter, or more importantly, so she could see him and not flip out like Misty said she had been doing. She seemed to be having separation anxiety, which concerned him, but he was told it was perfectly normal in happy children.

A little girl came and sat next to Fiona.

"Hey, are you OK?" She asked. She was wearing purple overalls, with matching barettes in her hair. Fiona's dark hair was in pigtails, with pink barettes and a pink outfit.

"My mommy isn't here yet," Fiona said, her eyes glancing up at the clock. The big hand was past the five now, and she felt panicked.

"Don't worry. My mommy can take you home if yours forgot about you," The little girl said. "My name's Holly. What's yours?"

"Fiona," she replied, smiling a little, despite the feeling of pure terror that had overcome her. "Do you think she really forgot about me?"

Another kid ran up to his father, and after each of her peers went home, she watched.

"No," Holly said, shaking her head. "My mom never forgets about me. She's our teacher."

"What?"

"Yea," Holly shook her head. "I usually stay around and play in the gym until everyone else goes home, and then my mom takes me home. She wouldn't let us spend the night in here or anything."

Spending the night here terrified Fiona beyond anything she had ever felt before. Just then, when she thought he terror could grow no more, she saw her father and leapt up. He was second in line, and she just came into view. She ran to him and hugged him tight, and he smiled, lifting her up in his arms.

"Daddy!"

Mrs. Castillo smiled at him. "Can I see an ID please?"

Brock looked at her blankly for a moment, and then reached for his wallet with his free hand, supporting Fiona's weight with his other arm.

"Handsome," she said, holding out the clipboard. Brock chuckled and signed his name on the clip board. "Fiona is an absolute angel, Mr. Harrison."

"I wish she was the same way at home," he said, laughing. "Thank you."

He turned away from her, but Fiona wiggled, struggling to get down. "Daddy, wait I have to say goodbye to Holly."

"OK," He said, putting her down and following her into the gym. "Who is Holly?"

Fiona ran over to the little girl who now sat alone, and Brock waited by the wall. Mrs. Castillo smiled over at him again, a blush on her cheeks.

"Seems like Fiona and my daughter are friends," she giggled.

"That's your daughter?" Brock asked. "You're Mrs. Castillo...Fiona's teacher, right?"

She nodded. "Please, call me Eve. That's Holly. My daughter."

"You're very lucky to get to spend all day long with your kid," Brock said, as he waited for Fiona to say her goodbyes. "My wife is having a hard time adjusting being away from Fiona. They both seem to be suffering some separation anxiety."

Eve Castillo nodded. "I see that a lot. Sometimes the parents have a harder time adjusting to preschool than the kids do, but they get used to it. When they go to grade school, it should be completely gone by then."

Her eyes lingered on Brock for a moment, and then she felt something, or someone run into her.

"Mommy, can I go over to Fiona's house and get in their pool?" Holly asked, and Fiona eagerly begged Brock.

"Not today, Holly," Eve said, signing out the last of the students. "We have a lot to do today."

"Today's not good for us, either, Fiona," Brock said, apologetically. "But...maybe this weekend. We usually hang out in the pool on the weekends anyway. And don't worry about anything, both Misty and I can swim, so everyone is safe."

Eve sighed. "Alright. Maybe Saturday afternoon, but only if you are good, Holly."

"Same goes for you too, Young Lady," Brock looked down at Fiona. "Thanks Eve. I'll see you around."

 _I will definitely be seeing you again_ , Eve thought to herself as she watched Brock exit the building with his daughter.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was dinner time by the time Brock returned from the gym, and from the moment he returned home, he could tell something was bothering Misty. Rose had spent most of the afternoon, getting to know her granddaughter, who was slowly warming up to her, making macaroni necklaces together at the kitchen table, but Misty was quiet. Eevee waited eagerly underneath her for her to drop something.

He removed his jacket and slug it over the back of the couch.

"Hey babe," he embraced her from behind and kissed her cheek.

"Hey," she said, flatly. Brock didn't push the issue. He had a feeling having her mother here was stressing her out more than it was making her happy.

"Daddy!" Fiona ran up to him, handing him a string with macaroni threaded onto it. "I made you a macaroni necklace!"

"You did?" He asked, mocking excitement. "Here let me try it on." He tried to slip it on over his head, but it was too small. Fiona giggled.

"How about I just get a macaroni headband?" He asked her, standing up. He looked over at Misty. "You like it? Does it make me look fat?"

Misty laughed, and Brock was relieved. Well, at least he could still make her laugh. Misty was quiet through dinner. Fiona busied herself with slipping Eevee table scraps. Brock tried his best to make conversation with Rose, which Misty could tell her mother was absolutely loving the attention she was getting from Brock.

She was even more impressed when Brock started on the dishes right away instead of heading straight into the living room to watch football.

"Do you need any help, honey?" Misty asked.

"No, I got it. You go relax. I'll even run you a bath later if you want," he winked at her, and Rose made a giddy sound of delight.

"Oh, Misty, can you please divorce this man, so that I can marry him?" She laughed, and Misty rolled her eyes.

"I have to get Fiona cleaned up and ready for bed," she mentioned casually, hopefully deterring her mother from wanting to spend any time with her. She really had no interest in building a relationship with her. She lived a quarter of a century without her, she didn't really need or want her now.

Misty made her way upstairs, with a protesting little girl trailing behind her.

"But Mommy, I'm not tired!" Fiona argued as she ascended the stairs.

"You will be after your bath," she had said, her words echoing down the staircase. Then the bathroom door closed and Brock and Rose were alone in the kitchen.

"So, how long are you in Pewter City for?" Brock asked, elbow deep in suds.

"Well, I'm not sure right now," she replied, not sure of what to say. She couldn't just come right out and ask him if she could move in here. "I'm just trying to get settled."

"Oh, I see," Brock nodded.

"Yea, I was in kind of a rough relationship," Rose sat at the kitchen island on one of the stools.

"Do you want some coffee or some tea? I usually drink a cup of coffee before bed. It helps me sleep," Brock grinned. "I know, it's weird, but..." He trailed off.

"Coffee would be great," Rose smiled. "But only if you were going to have some anyway. I don't want you to go through any extra trouble."

"No trouble at all," Brock said, preparing a pot of coffee. "So, a tough relationship? Is Misty's old man as stubborn as she is?"

Rose shook her head. "Oh, no, not Misty's father. Me and him split up a long time ago, when Misty was very little. You've never...met any of Misty's family have you?"

He shook his head. "Not really, no. I mean, I've met her sisters...and I met you today...awkwardly." They both laughed in unison.

"What do your parents think of Misty?" Rose asked curiously, watching Brock prepare the coffee and pull down two clean coffee mugs.

"They like her," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "My dad was a little iffy on her at first, seeing as she's from Cerulean City, and we're like arch rivals or something, but then again, my Mom trained water Pokemon and was from Cerulean as well, and they had 11 kids together."

"Wow," Rose's eyes were wide. "So you have a big family?"

"Huge family," Brock nodded. "My mom had 11 kids, including me. Ever since I married Misty, they've joked about us men have a weakness for those Cerulean City girls."

"Well, we are known for our beauty," she leaned forward on the counter and Brock noticed for the firt time how lowcut her shirt was.

"So, uhm," he cleared his throat and poured the coffee. "I'm just curious as to why you didn't stay at the Cerulean Gym. I mean, don't you own that place?"

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, and simply nodded, formulating her words.

"I know Misty hates me," she finally said, and Brock shook his head, handing her a cup of coffee.

"No, she doesn't hate you. She just...well, she's Misty..." he gave her a crooked grin. "She'll come around."

"She has every right to dislike me though, Brock," Rose took a sip of that Cerulean Coffee. "I haven't been there for her. I wasn't there to see her get married, to such a nice, wonderful, handsome, perfect man..." she trailed off, and looked into his eyes.

Brock felt his neck grow hot with embarassment. "Well, flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Vaughn."

She giggled. "And funny too..."

"Look, you're family. So, Misty will forgive you. And if you need a place to crash for a few days, you can crash here. I can help you get a job, maybe we can work something out," he said, and Rose gazed at him with those blue eyes, they were like the color of the ocean.

"Thank you, so much, Brock," she reached out and grabbed his hand, and she knew for sure now that she was flirting with him. Harmless flirting, as he was happily married and very committed to his wife, and Rose was just an attractive older woman who knew how to lay on the charm, but it was still flirting and he wasn't sure how Misty would see it.

"And please call me Rose," she said after a few moments. "I'm going to retire for the night. Do some reading before bed. Would you be a doll and help me bring in some luggage from the car? I have just a couple more bags out there."

"Sure," Brock said. However, what he discovered was she had several large bags. One was just completely filled with make-up, and one full of nothing but different purses. Misty emerged from the bathroom to find him hauling large bags up the staircase.

"Brock, what are you doing?" She asked, Fiona yawned and leaned against her legs as if she was going to fall asleep standing up.

"Helping your mother with her luggage," he said, pulling one large suitcase into the guest room and went down to retrieve another.

"That's...a lot of luggage," she stated, watching him struggle with two more bags into the guest room.

Rose smiled at her. "Brock said I could crash here for a while. Isn't this wonderful sweety? We can get to know eachother!"

For the first time ever -that Misty could remember- her mother embraced her. She hugged her back, hesitantly and exchanged a glance with Brock.

...

Misty sat at her vanity table, brushing her long red hair, that she just now noticed was much like her mother's. Brock emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark, bare skin glistening with the water from his shower.

"I missed you in there," he said, kissing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said, placing her brush down on the table.

"No, it's OK, Honey," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know it's been a weird day for you."

"Brock, I thought we were going to discuss letting her stay here," she finally spoke the words that Brock knew were coming.

"Sweetheart, look, I know you aren't thrilled that she's here, but maybe you should give her a second chance," Brock walked over to her and knelt down, looking up into her eyes. "You're a mother now. You know how much Fiona means to you, and I'm sure Rose feels the same way about you."

"I would never treat Fiona the way she treated me," Misty told him, looking back at her appearance in the mirror. Her mother used to tell her how ugly she was, and how no man would ever want her because of her boyish figure.

"You have no curves," Rose had said. "What man wants to feel like he's sleeping with a little boy? Unless you marry some kind of sick pedophile." Then she would suck on a cigarette and blow the smoke in her face.

But Misty had grown into a woman. She had gotten hips and breasts, and Brock seemed to be perpetually fascinated with her butt. And most of all, she had gotten so very pretty. Perhaps even prettier than her self-proclaimed beautiful sisters, and she had managed to marry the man of her dreams and have his baby, so her life hadn't turned out like Rose had so cruely predicted.

Brock kissed her, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"That's because you are a great mother," he said, and she smiled, kissing him back.

"Do you feel weird about having sex with my mother in the next room?" She asked, hoping her would say no.

"Hey, she's already seen us in action. It can't get much worse than that," he laughed and pulled her up, kissing her softly, and sensually. He let his towel fall to the floor, and he slipped the silk robe off of her shoulders.

"I think we should have another baby," Misty pushed him down on the bed, straddling him and smiling down at him.

"Another baby?" He asked looking up at her. "I thought you were on the pill."

"I am, but...if I stop taking it...we can try again," she let the robe fall off her shoulders, and he grinned, taking in the view appreciatively.

"We can do whatever you want," he pulled her down to him and neither of them heard the footsteps step away from the door.

...

Fiona awoke from her sleep. Not in the natural way, where one slowly comes into conciousness, but rather jerked from her sleep, violently. She always hated waking up when it was still dark out. Though she had a nightlight that lit up her room in different color stars on her ceiling, she still found the shadows in her room to be scary.

Her first instinct was to grab her stuffed Teddyursa doll and make a mad dash for her parents' bedroom. She felt safe, snuggled between them, even in their dark room, she knew nothing could get her in there. She softly made her way across the hall. Remembering that lady -the one that her mother had told her was her grandmother- Fiona looked at the guest bedroom door. It was closed and the light was off.

The hallway was pitch black, but she could still see faint light from under her parents' door. She looked behind her, into the yawning darkness of the hallway, and reached for the door handle. It was stuck...or locked. Fiona struggled with it again with her tiny hands, but it wouldn't budge. She didn't want to stay out in this dark hallway anymore, so she dashed back into her room and flipped on her light.

The light instantly vanished any shadows in her room. Smiling faces of teddybears and her Eevee settled herself at the end of the bed, her eyes open, watching Fiona, protectively. Evee had been a gift from her parents for her 4th birthday. Fiona remembered her Dad saying something about teaching her responsibility and how to raise a Pokemon, since she could one day be the leader of the Pewter City Gym.

Ever since then, Eevee had grown really attached to Fiona and has acted as a protector.

Fiona pulled down her covers again and slipped back into bed. Suddenly, Evee's ears perked up and she looked out the window. Shades were pulled down to prevent sun from entering her room too early, but it was almost as if Eevee could see through the shade and into the backyard, which who room faced.

"What is it, Eevee?" Fiona whispered, deciding that she would keep her light on the rest of the night.

Eevee pawed at the window, and Fiona lifted the shade and looked out. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. It was so black out there, it just looked like an empty abyss. She couldn't see her swing set, or the pool, or even a tree. Eevee whined again, pawing at the window.

Then Fiona heard something. A sound from down below in the backyard. It was a like a twig snapping, and the little girl pulled the covers tighter around her. Eevee got away from the window and laid right next to Fiona, pressing her tiny, furry body against Fiona's and stared at the bedroom door, daring it to open.

Fiona thought about the dark chasm of nothingness that was the hallway, and the safety of her parents bed, that she so desparately longed for, but right now, she was too scared to make the trek across the hallway. She was so terrified she could barely move.

...

An hour later, Brock lay in bed, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his skin.

"God, that was fucking incredible," he leaned over and kissed his wife, pulling her close to him as his heartbeat adjusted back to normal.

"Are you ready for round two?" Misty asked, giggling and letting herself be pulled into his warm embrace.

"I do need a recovery period," Brock told her, brushing a lock of redhair behind her ear. He noticed a look in her eyes, and he could tell something was on her mind. He was always good at reading her like that. "Something wrong, Love?"

"I just...keep thinking about Mom staying here," she said, almost hating to bring up the subject again. She really wanted to talk to him about all the dirty and naughty things he had done to her, and all the things she wanted him to do to her, but instead, her mother was at the forefront of her brain, and that was not only awkward, but inconvenient.

"Honey, I know it's hard for you, but like I said, I think she deserves a chance," he rested his head on his fist that was propped up by his elbow on the pillow.

"Did she tell you that..." she trailed off, not even sure if she should say anything to him. Her mother had went to rehab, it was in the past now, wasn't it? Right? She hesitated and Brock finally pressed her on.

"Tell me what?"

"Did she tell you what Charlie was?" She finally asked, her eyes fixed with his. "Her 'bad relationship'. Did she tell what Charlie did?"

"No," Brock shook his head. "He was a drug dealer. And he got my mom...hooked on Cocaine."

A look of shock flashed over his face, but it was gone in an instant. "Cocaine?" He asked. Misty nodded.

He sighed and rolled over on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "You know," he began, pausing for a moment. "My father was an alcoholic. A raging alcoholic. He used to come home and beat on my mother and me just because he would get stopped at one too many redlights on the way home from the bar. Or his team would lose the game. Or hell, just cuz he felt like it."

Misty rested her head on his chest.

"He got help though," Brock said. "He got help and he got better. He stopped drinking, and he stopped hitting me. I think Rose can do the same thing."

"So, you think we should let her stay here for as long as she wants?" Misty lifted her head to meet his gaze.

"I'll get her a job. She can do office work in the gym," Brock told her.

"What happened to your secretary?" Misty asked, surprised.

"Dad ran her off a few months ago," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I've been doing the finances, plus winning the battles and training. If I don't keep my Pokemon in tip top shape, I can't put food on the table or pay for this big beautiful house. So, if I have more time to train because I'm not doing books, we could possibly make more money."

"And if we have another baby..."

"Then we'll need it," he grinned and kissed her. "Everything will be fine. You know me, baby. I got this!"

A tiny knock came to their door and Brock sighed. Any chances of him getting laid a second time tonight just went right out the window.

"Why can't she ever sleep through the night?" Brock asked, sounding more frustrated than he wanted to. They quickly got dressed, and Brock unlocked and opened the door, hoping he could convince his daughter to go back to her own bed, but when he saw her standing there, clutching her stuffed Teddyursa, and Eevee by her side he knew that wouldn't be the case.

"Fiona," Misty came to the door, fastening her pink silk robe around her waist. "Why aren't you in bed? It's almost one in the morning."

"Eevee heard someone outside of my window," she said, simply, running into her mother's arms, determined never to let go. The dark hallway that was once a mysterious abyss was now lit by the bedside lamp from her parents's bedroom.

"Sweetheart, it was probably just Raticate or something," Brock said, but Fiona shook her head.

"I'm scared, Daddy," she looked up at him, with those sad puppy dog eyes and he finally closed the door behind him.

"Alright, you can sleep in here," he said, inviting Eevee to jump on the bed, and she settled down in a nice comfy spot by his feet, pressing her body against his so that he hardly had any leg room. Fiona settled in between them, sharing a pillow with her mother and jamming her feet into Brock's lower back.

 _The things you go through for your kids,_ Brock thought, as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Fiona still felt uneasy about what she had heard last night outside her window. She had quickly fallen asleep when she was in the safety of her parents room, but her dreams were still filled of images of ghosts and goblins. She never got to watch scary movies, and was always put in bed before her parents would watch them, but there were some nights that she would sneak down and catch glimpses of terrifying things on television, and then regret it when she was finally too tired to stay awake any longer.

Rose had awoken early, and had put on a pot of coffee. Brock was pleased that his coffee was ready for him before he was even out of bed, and he decided Misty's mother wasn't such a bad houseguest. He truly felt like she was committed to fixing things with Misty.

"Well goodmorning, Fiona," Rose said, as she sat at the table with her parents. Fiona climbed up in a chair, Eevee by her side.

"Good morning," she said, shyly. Misty put a waffle and a cup of applejuice in front of her and then sat down to enjoy a cup of coffee before taking her off to school.

"I heard you had a bad dream last night," Rose said to her, and Brock wondered if she could also hear what they were doing. He blushed at the thought.

Fiona nodded, mutely. It must have been a bad dream. The noises, Eevee scratching at the window, the creepiness she felt in the hall and the inability to get into her parents' bedroom. It all must have just been a horrible dream. That's always what her parents would say when she crawled into bed with them.

"Tell me about it, Fiona," Rose said. "What happened?"

Misty saw the worried look on Fiona's face. "Fiona, honey, won't don't you go upstairs and grab your bag? We have to leave soon."

The little girl climbed down out of her chair and raced up the stairs to her room, peeking behind the drawn drapes that cast the room in a dim blue hue of morning. The backyard was bathed in sunlight. The pool glistened, it's water clear and clean and cool. Her swingset glared brightly with all of it's different colors. The grill where her Dad made hamburgers was off in the corner. Everything looked normal.

But something was out there last night. Well, at least in her dream it was.

Back down in the kitchen, Misty stood up from the table, and Brock had already gotten the vibe that Rose had done something to offend Misty. She hadn't liked her pushing Fiona to retell her dreams.

"Perhaps you shouldn't allow Fiona to sleep with you two at night," Rose said. "Not that I'm telling you how to parent, it's just...that can cause a child to develope some attachment issues. She needs to learn how to self soothe."

Brock opened his mouth to say something, but Misty was faster.

"I will comfort my child anyway I see fit, Rose," Misty saw the look on her face when she chose to forego the word "Mom". "All I did as a child was self soothe, and I don't want my child to feel that emptiness that I felt growing up."

Brock cleared his throat and stood up. "I better get to the gym."

"I'm sorry," Rose said, finally, and Brock gave her a look that said 'Don't piss Misty off'. He knew once she was pissed off, there was really no coming back from it. He had been on that end of her once -when he had stayed on the island with Felina Ivy- and the only reason she forgave him was because he begged her, and she was in love with him.

However, with Rose, there wasn't too much love there and he didn't want Rose to dig herself into a whole she couldn't get out of.

"It's just..." Rose spoke again, and Brock's shoulders slumped. She hadn't gotten his silent message. "Do you think she has anxiety? A lot of children can get that at a young age, and I just want her to develope normal coping skills. You don't want her to be 10 years old and still sleeping in your bed, do you?"

"She can sleep in our bed as much as she needs to! She's four years old!" Misty slammed a fork down into the sink and Brock winced. She angrily stomped over to the staircase where Fiona was coming down the stairs, her backpack strapped to her.

"Come on, Sweety," her tone had changed towards her daughter, but a note of annoyance and anger was still evident. Brock heard the front door slam shut and he stood in silence with Rose for a long moment.

"Like I told you yesterday," he said, shaking his head. "She's just...Misty. You probably don't want to make her mad. She's got a very short temper."

"That's a redhead for you," Rose said, smiling. "I didn't mean any harm. I guess I shouldn't be giving parenting advice. Misty never had a room to run to if she had a bad dream. She tried a few times, but some of the men I would have in there thought she was some kind of offering. So I would send her away, back to her room and tell her to keep her door locked. And that the real monsters didn't hide in her closet."

Brock shuddered. "Child molesters?"

Rose nodded, shamefully. "I didn't know until later. I hung out at this bar in Cerulean, the bad part of Cerulean, and we were all in kind of a ring together. I had a friend, who also had a daughter, and she and I were after this one guy named Don." She paused of moment, took a sip of coffee. "Well, Don was about 35, really handsome, and we both really liked him. He used to sleep with both of us. Anyway, one night they spent together, her daughter was raped. She was Misty's age. She was only 3."

Brock felt sick to his stomach. Anger quelled within him, not at Rose, particuarly, but that someone could do that to a child. That it could have happened to Misty. That someone out there right now could do that to Fiona. It made him want to actually kill someone.

And Brock didn't like or own guns. But he would buy one just to blow the head off of anyone who touched his wife or daughter.

"Anyway," Rose went on after a moment of thinking about those days in her past. "After that, I didn't trust anyone I brought home. I could have just not brought anyone home, but I was young and beautiful and I loved sex. I honestly had no business even being a parent."

"You know, before Misty and I really got together, she was with some idiot named Tracey, and he tried to hurt her," Brock paused for a moment. "I've blamed myself for years, for putting her in danger. If I hadn't played with heart and dated that other woman, she wouldn't have gotten with Tracey."

"But she wasn't hurt," Rose said, nodding. "That's what important. She still had you to love her and protect her. I always hoped my girls would find guys just like you to marry."

"Listen, Rose," Brock said, leaning across the kitchen table. "I'm gonna have a cook out here Saturday evening. Fiona has a little friend at school that wants to come over and play, so I decided it would be a good opportunity to maybe invite my family over as well, and maybe you can talk to them about getting a job."

Rose's eyes lit up. "Oh, Brock, you would do that for me?"

Brock smiled that handsome, charming smile, and Rose could certainly see how Misty had fallen for him. "Well, our secretary quit a couple months ago. All you would really have to do is schedule matches, and take the fee. Handle payroll. On the off chance, I lose a match, you might have to give out some money." He winked and Rose giggled.

"Oh, honey, I ran a gym. Of course my girls usually handled the office work. They weren't much for battling," she said. "Except for Misty. When she was battling trainers, we barely lost a single match. I bet Fiona's got the genes in her to be a really good trainer."

Brock chuckled. "Yea, she's taken an interest in fire Pokemon. I don't really like the idea of her holding matches in a volcano though. What do you want to bet that she grows up to marry a water pokemon trainer though? We Harrisons' have a knack for marrying our weaknesses."

The older woman giggled again. "They do say that oppsites attract." Her eyes sparkled at him and he watched her place her hand over his. He finished off his coffee and stood up.

"Well, uh, I have to...I have to get to the gym," he checked his watch. "It's almost time for my first battle of the day. Just try to stay on Misty's good side."

He flashed her another smile and Rose nodded her head, wondering how Misty ever got to be so lucky.

...

Misty walked with Fiona to her classroom, and saw her immediately sit with another little girl and felt relief when she saw that she was making friends. She was about to turn away when she heard Mrs. Castillo's voice.

"Mrs. Harrison?" She called out, and Misty turned around, smiling.

"Hi, Mrs. Castillo," she said, offering her hand. The other woman shook her hand.

"I just wanted to see if we were still on for Saturday. Your husband was in here yesterday to pick up your daughter, and he said it would be alright if Holly came over and played with Fiona for a while," She said, and Misty looked surprised, but she hoped that didn't come across in her response.

"Oh, of course," Misty replied. "I'd love to have you and Holly over."

"Great!" Eve Castillo replied. "Well, I have to get class started. Fiona is doing so well, Mrs. Harrison. You have a wonderful daughter."

"Thank you," Misty said, nodding her head and turning away.

...

Kimberly Roberts stepped into the Pewter City Gym, five minutes before her match with the leader was supposed to start. She was a young girl, just 18 years old, and had already entered a few leagues in Johto and Hoenn, but it was her first couple of days in Kanto and her first gym match there.

Her twin brother, Jared, and her friend, Kelly were also with her. The Pewter Gym was a gray, cool place. The entire gym was made of stone, and the ground was covered in a dusty, gritty dirt. Jared looked at his guide book.

"It's a rock gym. I heard the gym leader is extremely tough and has a lot of experience." Jared said, still looking through the guide book.

"I'll use a Blastoise and finish this match quick," Kimberly said, popping her gum, casually.

Kelly smirked at her friend. "I heard he's married to the former Cerulean City gym leader. He's probably got his rock Pokemon resistant to water."

"It's still a rock Pokemon. It's weak against water," Kimberly shot back, over confidently. She tied her long blond hair into a ponytail and checked her watch. Right on the dot she heard a door open and a tall, broad, strong figure stepped out and into the light.

Kimberly's confidence suddenly drained. Rock Pokemon she could deal with. Attractive males tended to make her knees weaken. Kelly let out a giggle and nudged Jared, knowingly.

"I think Kim just wet herself," she and Jared both giggled, and Kimberly blushed, glaring at the two of them.

"Your fee, please?" Brock asked, and Kimberly forced her brain to start working correctly, and handed him a wad of cash. After counting it, he stuck in a safe, and reminded himself that it really would be nice if Rose could take care of this before the match.

"If you win, your fee will be completely refunded, plus 20%. If you lose, you will receive no refund and can not challenge this gym again for 15 days from today's date. We will use two Pokemon," Brock spoke out, his voice echoing in the gym. Kimberly stood mezmerized. The guidebook didn't say a thing about Pewter City's gym leader being so attractive.

"Do you understand the rules and conditions?" He asked, and waited for Kimberly's reply.

Kelly nudged her and the girl suddenly shook her head. "Y-yes, Sir."

Brock sent out Geodude and Kimberly felt some of her confidence come back. If she didn't look directly at him, maybe she wouldn't get shy and be able to beat him and win that badge. She sent out a Marril she had caught about a year ago.

"Alright, Marril, spray that chuck of dirt with your water gun!" She said, and Marril obeyed spraying a steady stream of water at the Geodude.

"Geodude, resist it!" Brock called out. "Give it some payback with a megapunch!"

Geodude obeyed, and fought through the water attack, then slammed the tiny mouse with a megapunch attack, leaving Marril very badly wounded. Kimberly was shocked, but Kelly wasn't.

"See? I told ya," she said to Jared as they watched from the sidelines.

Brock grinned and looked over Kimberly. "You're a cute girl. I'm sure if you went home now, you could get a job as a model somewhere."

Kimberly blushed, and Brock knew he had some kind of effect on her. He could tell from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was shying away from him.

"I'll win!" She said. "Marril, get up! Use your quick attack!"

Marril quickly charged at Geodude, sending it back a bit, but Geodude seemed almost uneffected by it.

"Geodude, rock throw!" Brock commanded, and Geodude picked up a huge rock, chucking it at the Marril, knocking it out cold.

Kimberly returned her Marril and looked at Brock, figuring out what she could do next. If his Geodude wouldn't be effected by water, than whatever else he had probably wouldn't be either. All she had was a Blastoise and a Charmeleon...maybe fire would effect it. Maybe.

She quickly made a decision and sent out Charmeleon, as Brock returned Geodude and sent out Onix. The giant Rock Pokemon roared to life, and Kelly and Jared huddled together in terror.

Brock smiled. "Onix, dig a hole underground!" He demanded, and onix burrowed a huge hole in the middle of the gym. Kimberly was caught off guard.

"Charmeleon...don't let it trick you. Stay on your guard!" She said, and Charmeleon nodded its head. Suddenly, Onix burst through the ground, sending Charmeleon flying until it slammed hard back against the wall, knocking it out.

Kimberly stood there in shock and furrowed her brow, returning her Pokemon.

Brock grinned and stood proudly at his post. Onix obediently stayed beside him. "Maybe I can take a look at your pokemon. Give you some healing medicine and some training tips?"

Kimberly was angry, and she almost flat out refused until she looked up at him and blushed. Her anger dissolved and she forced a smile.

The injured Marril and Charmeleon went up to Brock and he gave them some healing medication on their wounds. They both winced at the stinging, and Kimberly was amazed at how her Pokemon were reacting to him.

"Most people can't even get near my Charmeleon without being burned," she said. "But you...you're not having a problem."

"It's all in how you act," Brock told her. "Let them know you are there to help them. Your training skills will reflect directly on the battlefield."

Kelly nudged her friend and smiled. "Are you going to ask him out?"

Blushing, Kimberly shoved her away. "Shh! He'll hear you!" She tried to lower her voice, but Brock had heard her.

"Don't feel bad about losing," Brock said, standing up. "To be honest with you, I don't really like battling. I raise Pokemon and study them. I'm kind of the brainy one in my family. My dad's got a rock in his head."

They both laughed and Kimberly hesitated as Brock reached out his hand.

"Fifteen days. Train hard, and come back." He winked at her and she felt her heart race. She watched him retreat into the back.

Jared stood up, sighing. "I bet you're just going to keep losing so you can come back and oogle him all the time."

She glared at her brother. "I'm not oogling him!"

"You were undressing him with your eyes!" Her brother argued.

Brock stood in the backroom of the gym, a room he had made his office. He heard the three teenagers arguing as they walked out the door and he couldn't help but laugh. Why didn't girls fall all over him like that when he as fifteen?

Then again, Misty had liked him, and she was definitely more than enough.

A moment later, he heard his wife's voice ring out across the gym. "Brock? Honey, are you here?"

He raced out of the backroom and saw her standing there, just where Kimberly had stood a minute ago and he smiled.

"Hey sexy," he scooped her up in his arms and gave her a sensual kiss. "Did you come by to cheer me up before my next match?"

Misty smiled, and then pushed him back. "Brock, did you invite Mrs. Castillo over for a cook out on Saturday?"

"Well, yea," he shrugged and separated himself from her, reluctantly. "Holly and Fiona are friends, and plus I thought it would be a great opportunity for my family to meet Rose so that we can look into giving her a job."

He paused for a moment, seeing the look on her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even ask you if it was alright..." he winced. "I just really want Fiona to make some friends. And help your mom out."

"I know you do, honey," she said, her eyes held forgiveness. "I just really don't know if I want my mother settling down in Pewter City. She's already trying to tell me how to raise Fiona...and if we have another child, she's going to tell me how to raise that one, too."

She scoffed and folded her arms. "She'll probably even dictate how I give birth."

Brock chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I had a talk with her after you left. Look, she's not the best at being a mother, but you are. And we should show Fiona that forgiveness is a good thing and something to strive for. We always say that we lead by example."

"I know," Misty said, still unsure if she had made the right decision to let Rose stay there. "I'm going to run to the market and get some things for the cookout."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Saturday afternoon, the September sun was very hot. It was almost as if summer was having one last say so before giving into the chill of fall. Eve Castillo had come over around four o'clock, and Holly and Fiona immediately splashed into the pool, under the close supervision of their mothers.

Brock's family arrived about an hour later, and the backyard was soon filled with so much noise, she was almost certain one of the more conservative neighbors would call the police for a disturbance, despite it barely even being dinner time.

Fiona swam to the edge of the pool, she was a natural born swimmer, just like Misty was, even at that age. "Mommy, come get in the pool with us!"

Holly joined her at the edge of the pool and looked up at her as well. "Yea, come on! Fiona said you used to be the Cerulean City gym leader, and you used to be a mermaid!"

Misty giggled. "Well, I wasn't a real mermaid. I just played one a couple times in a play my sisters were holding." Fiona must have seen the photo album of the play she was in, before she and Brock had even gotten together.

Eve smiled and looked over at Misty. "She really loves water Pokemon and mermaids."

"Alright, let me go inside and change and I'll be right back," she said, smiling down at Holly. Eve assured her she would watch the girls as they continued to swim, but her attention was partially divided between the children and Brock Harrison.

He was at the grill cooking the food with his little brother. He looked even more handsome than he had when he picked up Fiona earlier that week. His sqaure jaw, his strong arms, his solid frame, his jet black spiked hair, those dark, slanted eyes that glimmered in any kind of light and those natural dark tan that made his skin look so warm to the touch.

The sliding glass door opened to the backyard and Eve assumed Misty was already back, but was surprised to see someone else. A woman who looked like Misty, but older. It must have been her mother. She waltzed past Eve and smiled and then walked up to Brock, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Oh, hey Rose," he said, flashing her a very charming smile. Forest, his brother, looked back at her, gave her a weak smile, and returned his attention to the grill.

"I'm sorry I'm late, darling," Rose said. "I wanted to get a manicure and pedicure and a facial down at the spa so I can look fresh."

"It's no problem. Dinner isn't even ready yet," he stepped away from the grill and wiped his hands on a towel, grateful to be out of the line of the fire and feeling the cool summer breeze on his face. "My Mom and Dad are right over here." He led her to their table, where Lola Harrison was busy making sure her younger children understood to be safe in the pool.

She released them, and loud squeals could be heard as three of her children ran off and jumped the pool to join Fiona and Holly.

"Mom, Dad," Brock said, once he reached the table. "I'd like you to meet Rose Vaughn, my mother-in-law. Rose, this is my Dad Flint and my Mom, Lola."

Flint smiled at her, he had the same kind of smile as Brock. In fact, they looked almost identical, except Flint had wrinkles where Brock's skin was still tight with youth, and his hair was graying at the temples. He was handsome though, in a distinguished way, not in the boyish charming way that Brock was.

Lola was a petite woman, with short brown hair, curled around her shoulders and a pretty face. Although all of her children favored Flint, she had a feeling Brock got his kindheartedness from the nurture of his mother growing up.

Something Rose herself had never given Misty...

But she had turned over to be a great mother, even if she was, in her own opinion, overprotective.

Rose shook their hands.

"So, I was wondering if maybe Rose could get a job at the gym," Brock said, and his mother's expression hardened, but she said nothing. She just busied herself with getting the liters out of the grocery bags and filling solo cups with ice.

"What kind of job are you looking for?" Flint asked, sitting at the edge of the picnic table, and Brock knew he was trying to look "edgy" as if to impress Rose. Perhaps this was a mistake.

Rose smiled at him, flashing her Cerulean blue eyes at him, that same color of blue that had made Brock fall in love with her daughter for all these years, except Rose's were more weathered and filled with more darkness from days behind her than Misty's were.

"I will be greatful for anything you may have open," Rose said, and Flint grinned at her.

"Well, I think my boy here could use some help with adminstrative work. And you are certainly more than qualified to work in a gym, even if it was a water gym," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Rose laughed. "How about you come in on Monday and I'll show you our office and how things are set up. My boy brings in pretty decent money from his winnings, and we pull in way above average winnings with him running things."

"Oh, Brock is a sweetheart," she said, placing her hand on Brock's arm, feeling his muscle. Lola noticed and she glared at Rose, but not for too long. She had known what kind of woman Rose Vaughn was a long time ago. In fact they had gone to school together and she babysat Misty's older sisters for rose in Cerulean City, but she had never let anyone know she hadn't liked the woman, or that she still didn't.

When she found out Brock had fallen in love with Rose's daughter, she was hesitant, but when she met Misty, it was almost like they weren't even related. Despite the red hair, and the same color and shape of their eyes, they were nothing a like and her tensions eased. When he told her they were getting married and then having a child, Lola had been nothing but thrilled, but she always knew the day would come when she would see Rose Vaughn again.

Rose made no inclination that she even remembered Lola. And who knows if she really remembered anything from 90's, when Lola had stormed out of her house, back to Pewter City and never to return to Cerulean again. It didn't matter anyway. But the more she watched her put her hands on her oldest son, Lola couldn't help but say something.

"Well, I raised him very well," Lola spoke up, as she unwrapped a pie she had made that morning for the cookout. "I raised all my children very well."

Rose stopped for a moment, her freshly manicured fingers dropping from Brock's tight muscle. Brock cleared his throat and stepped away.

"I'm going to go help Forest back at the grill," he said, walking backwards. "I'll...I'll let you guys know when dinner is ready."

...

Misty tied her bathing suit top around the top of her neck and she checked her appearance in the mirror. She tied her long red hair up into a messy bun, a few tredrils of hair tickled her neck. The drapes in the bedroom were pulled shut, but a little light of the day penetrated the room.

She sat on the bed and rubbed her long legs with tanning oil, as well as her stomach, arms and breasts. She would get Brock to put it on her back, he had always loved doing that.

A strange thumping sound startled her in the dimly lit room and she looked up, seeing if Fiona had followed her inside and had fallen down. She didn't hear crying though, so perhaps it was just Eevee who had ventured inside from the outside, but she had seemed pretty preoccupied with Brock cooking, looking for something to drop down for her.

"Fiona?" She called out, knowing it wasn't her daughter who had made the sound. "Eevee? Is that you, girl?" She called out for the Pokemon, but no response came from anywhere. She went over to the window and looked down at the backyard, which was just off the side of her bedroom window. She saw that Fiona and Holly were busy playing a game of Marco Polo with Brock's youngest siblings, and her mother seemed to be chatting up Brock's parents, while Brock and Forest grilled, dropping morsels for Eevee every few minutes or so.

It must have been something falling in the closet. Perhaps Brock's bowling ball, or her shoes. She went back outside, and Brock turned around, nearly burning his hand on the grill. Forest noticed his lack of attention, and turned to look back too, his mouth hanging open.

"I hope I marry a girl as hot as you did," Forest said, finally finding his voice again. Eve heard the boys comments, and rolled her eyes discretely. Why did everyone always find those Cerulean City girls so beautiful?

Brock watched her slip into the pool, giggling and blocking a splash from his little sister, who giggled and swam away.

"Hey, Dude, eyes back on the food!" he said, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from his wife and popping Forest playfully in the back of the head.

"I'm going to Cerulean City to meet a woman," Forest told him. "Wait til spring break. Dad says hot women are everywhere down there at spring break. That's where he met Mom."

"They'll steal your heart, Forest," Brock grinned at him and mussed his hair. "Think with your big head, not your little one. The little one will get you into a lot of trouble. Fun trouble, but still trouble."

Misty swam over to the edge of the pool, both Holly and Fiona gathering around her.

"When will dinner be ready?" She asked, trying to shake the creepy feeling she had in their bedroom in the bright, but fading sunlight of the day.

"In a few minutes," Brock replied. "You look beautiful, by the way!"

This made Eve sneer a little bit, and she almost wanted to pull Holly away and go home, but she didn't want Holly to lose a friend over it, or cause trouble.

Dinner was served in another 15 minutes, and Misty helped Fiona get a plate of food before getting her own and Brock helped his mother with the drinks. At the long picnic table in their yard, they all sat. Misty reluctantly sat next to her mother, across from Brock and Eve sat at the end of the table with Holly and Fiona. The fading daylight had prompted Brock to light some tiki torches to keep bugs away and to provide some light in the backyard, but Misty couldn't help but focus on the dark shadows in the yard, the places where the tiki torches didn't reach.

As the conversation went on around her, she looked up at the drape pulled over their bedroom window and she wondered if anyone could be lurking behind it.

Watching her.

Waiting.

...

The party was over, and Rose had retired inside the house, avoiding being recruited to clean up. Brock didn't mind much, as he was used to cleaning up after everyone, but Misty threw a look of disgust towards her mother's back as she watched the woman walk back into the house.

Misty picked up a few paper plates and Brock put his hand over hers.

"Leave it, Honey. I got it," he said, taking the paper plates from him.

"At least let me help you throw away the trash," she protested. Honestly, she hated cleaning up, especially after dinner, but she didn't want to go back inside the house. Not by herself. Memories of just a few hours ago arose in her mind and she tried to find any excuse she could to stay outside. Fiona stood tiredly by her mother and Brock smiled.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed," he said, and Fiona fought to keep her eyes open.

Lola Harrison stayed behind and was helping her son, ignoring his protests. Misty eyed her husband, as he shoved paper plates and solo cups into a large trash can by the fence.

"Why don't you get her cleaned up and ready for bed?" Misty asked, and he looked back at her.

"She's still going to ask for Mommy before she falls asleep," he said, abandoning the trash and picking up Fiona who tiredly lifted her head and looked around.

"I'll be up to say goodnight," Misty promised, kissing Fiona before Brock carried her into the house. She giggled excitedly as Brock put her on his shoulders and acted like he was a horse, carrying her back to her castle.

Misty smiled and turned back to Lola, who flashed a weak smile and tied up a trash bag before throwing it into the large trashcan.

"I always knew Brock would be a great Daddy," Lola mused, but then her face turned ashen again and Misty walked up beside her, wiping down the table with a wet washcloth.

"Is something wrong, Lola?" She asked, long ago dropping the formanlity from her name, but she still hadn't gotten used to calling Brock's father, -who was now inside the house watching the last of the football game- by his first name, so she stuck with Mr. Harrison.

Sighing, the older woman shook her head. "No, I'm just being silly," she said. "I'm being paranoid."

Misty sat down on the swingset. Seeing as the backyard was cleaned up now, she decided to relax and enjoy the last bits of summer. She silently gestured for Lola to come join her. The older woman smiling and down on the other belt seat of the swing.

"About what?" She asked, knowing that something was bothering Lola, and after all the times the woman had helped her, she wanted to help her as well. Lola had been there when she had gotten married, when Brock had gotten shot, when she had gotten pregnant and went into labor with Fiona. She was there through it all, and she felt closer to Brock's mother than she did her own.

"Honey, please don't take this the wrong way," Lola said, glancing over at her, tears threatening her eyes. "But I-I do not like your mother."

Misty blinked for a moment, and then a small grin played at the corner of her lips. "Don't worry, I don't either."

Lola chuckled, barely audible, but Misty had heard it. "It's just that...now that she's got a job at the Pewter Gym, she's going to be around. And well..." she trailed off for a moment, looking down at her feet, wondering if she should continue telling her daughter-in-law her thoughts.

"I'm afraid that Flint will cheat on me with her," she covered one hand with the other in a fist and looked over at Misty, who was looking at her sympathetically.

"Oh, Lola, that won't happen," Misty put her hand over Lola's comfortingly. "You're a good mother, and a good wife. Flint knows that and he wouldn't cheat on you."

"Misty, sometimes I don't know how Flint and I managed to raise Brock into the respectable young man he's grown up to be," she dabbed her eyes as tears formed. "I suppose it's a miracle. I know Brock hurt you once before when you were younger with that ol' Professor Ivy, I never did that like that woman," she winked at Misty.

"But I've never seen Brock more committed to anyone or anything before in his life like he is to you," Lola's eyes darted towards the house, the living room window that was covered by curtains, where she knew Flint was sitting, probably falling asleep, unless Brock had come down to watch the game with him.

"Flint loves you, Lola," Misty tried to reassure her, and even though Lola nodded, Misty knew that her mother-in-law wasn't quite convinced. "Trust me.

"You're right. I told you I was just being silly," Lola stood up and hugged Misty for a long moment. "I am so glad Brock married you, Sweetheart."

"I am, too" Misty said, wondering if maybe Lola wasn't being silly at all.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _July 1989_

 _Rose Vaughn teased her long red hair more, and lined her eyes with more heavy make-up. Today was her 21st birthday, and she was determined to have some fun. Her three daughters, Violet, Daisy and Lilly were being watched by the neighborhood sitter. Rose gave the teenage girl a wad of cash to order a pizza and gave them instructions to have them all in bed by 9._

 _Then she left._

 _Lola Harrison was just 17 years old, and she too, had a son who was almost three years old and was currently pregnant again with her second child. Violet was just a year older than her son, Brock, while Daisy was just getting out of Diapers and Lilly was barely even able to talk yet._

 _She sat down on the couch and flipped on the cartoons, sitting Brock and Violet on the floral printed, brown couch, while she helped Daisy use the bathroom._

 _"Are you guys hungry?" She asked, and Brock leaned over the side of the couch, nodding his head vigorously._

 _"Ice cream!" He yelled out, and Violet stood up, jumping on the couch, making Brock bounce up and down with her every movement._

 _"Yea! Ice cream!" She agreed._

 _"No Ice cream," Lola said, shaking her head. "How about pizza? You guys like pizza. Don't you, Brock?"_

 _"Yea!" He cheered and turned back to the television where He-man was on television. Violet rolled her eyes._

 _"I wanna watch the smurfs!" She whined, and snatched the remote from Brock's hands._

 _"No, smurfs are stupid! Like you! Stupid girl!" He reached for the remote, but Violet held it just out of his reach._

 _"I'm older than you so you have to do what I say," she grinned, and he plopped back down on his butt, pouting. He heard his mother come back into the room and he looked at her from around the corner of the couch._

 _"Mommy, Violet won't let me watch He-man!" He whined, and Lola walked over to him, kissing him on the forehead._

 _"Now, Brock, you know you are always supposed to let ladies have their choice first. You can watch he-man after Violet's show. I've got it taping at home for you," she rubbed his back comfortingly, and he sat back against the couch, rolling his eyes as the Smurf's theme song played on the television in front of them._

 _The humid Cerulean Air in mid-july was brutal, and it seemed to have let all the cold air out of the house as she opened the door to receieve the pizza. She picked up Lilly from her crib and sat her in a highchair before setting to work getting a slice of pizza for Violet, Lilly and Brock, plus three cups of kool-aid._

 _Then she warmed up a jar of baby food for Lilly, and picked up a plastic spoon, scooping the mashed mangos into her mouth._

 _"I hope you're having a boy," Brock said, pointing to his mother's protruding belly. Even at 6 months pregnant, she was showing. "I've had enough of these girls and their water Pokemon everywhere. When are we going back to Pewter City to see Daddy?"_

 _Lola shot him a look._

 _"You will see your daddy soon," she promised him, scooping another spoonful into Lilly's mouth._

 _Brock sighed and looked over at Violet who was reaching for another piece of pizza. "Don't eat all of it!"_

 _"Brock Harrison!" Lola scolded him. "There is plenty for all of you. Now, don't be a hog!"_

 _Brock cowered and looked up at her. "But Mommy, I just wanted to make sure there was enough for you."_

 _Lola's face softened and she smiled at him. "Oh, Sweetheart, there is plenty for everyone. I'll get a piece or two after I finish feeding Lilly. Don't worry about me."_

 _Brock felt guilty as he reached for another piece of pizza. Violet giggled and stuck her tongue out at him._

 _"When I grow up and get married, it's not going to be to a stupid water Pokemon trainer like you!" Brock glared at the older girl and took a bite of his pizza._

 _"Brock!" He heard his mother's voice scold him again. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with water Pokemon trainers! And if you don't start being nicer to girls, you won't get married at all. Now you wouldn't like that would you?"_

 _"As long as she's a water Pokemon trainer, I wouldn't want anything to do with her!" Brock shook his head._

 _..._

 _Lola cleaned up the kitchen and put on a movie for the kids, even one that Brock would enjoy. The Fox and The Hound. Brock had always loved that movie. She saw as the clock approached 10 P.M. and she realized that the kids were not in bed, but then again, Rose was not home yet._

 _"Girls, it's time for bed," Lola announced. Daisy looked up at her, tears forming in her eyes._

 _"But...Mommy!" She started to cry and Lola picked her up, bouncing her lightly and soothing her._

 _"Shhh, Daisy, it's OK. Mommy will be home soon, OK?" She cooed softly, and she felt someone else clutch onto her leg. It was Brock, and he looked up at her sadly._

 _"I wanna watch The Fox and the Hound, Mommy!" He begged and Lola smiled down at him, sighing._

 _"I tell you what," she said, placing Daisy back down on the couch. "How about I get your sleeping bags down here and we all camp out and finish the movie, and then we can go to sleep, OK?"_

 _"OK!" Brock agreed, excitedly._

 _Fifteen minutes later, Lola had turned the living room into a campground of sleeping bags. Lilly slept in her playpen, not interested at all in the movie. Violet and Daisy slept side by side, while Brock had situated himself next to his mother, who had made a bed for herself on the couch._

 _Just before the movie ended, all of the children were asleep and Lola felt her eyelids getting heavy. She switched off the television and plunged into darkness._

 _Brock wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but when he awoke, the room was totally dark. He smelled his mother's perfume above him, and he reached out, touching her nose, and then her hand and his panic slowly subsided. He laid back down in the sleeping bag his mother had retreived. It was Violet's old one, it had a Poliwag on it, and even though he hated it, he was too tired to refuse it._

 _He tried to go back to sleep, but he heard the front door click open and light from the streetlights outside poured in and sillhoutted the two figures that stepped through the door. He recognized one voice as Rose Vaughn, but the other one he didn't recognize. He watched as the two made their way into the kitchen and flipped on the light, illuminating the living room just enough where he could clearly see his mother now, but she didn't stir in her sleep._

 _He got up and snuck around the corner of the kitchen. He saw Rose Vaughn pressed against the counter, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair was kissing her. Now, he wasn't real sure why adults liked to mash their faces together so much, he had seen his Mom and Dad do that a lot, but they seemed to really enjoy doing it._

 _Fully awake now, he crept closer. He wanted to know why they were allowed to stay up so late, but his Mom had made him go to bed. He also wanted to know who the blond man was, and wanted to know if he wanted to play with his match-box cars, like his Mom did sometimes._

 _He smelled an unfamiliar smell when he neared them. It was a pungent smell and it burned his nostrils and he instictively backed away from it. Rose laughed louder and he ducked down quickly, startled by the sound, and when he did, he knocked out a pizza box that was stuffed in the trash._

 _It clattered on the floor, and the blond man and Rose stopped what they were doing and looked at him, as he crouched down on the floor. The look of anger that the blond man had on his face made Brock feel like a dear in headlights. He couldn't move. He desparately wanted to run back to the couch with his mother and cower in her arms, but he just sat there, looking up at the man stared down at him angrily._

 _Rose put her hands on her hips._

 _"What are you doing up?" She asked, but she didn't sound happy. She didn't pick him up and rock him like his mother always did when she caught him up in the middle of the night. She sounded mad, but not the kind of mad his mother always sounded when she was mad. It was a tone of voice that made him want to cry._

 _"Get your ass back in bed, Kid!" The man yelled, and pointed back to the living room. Brock shakily got to his feet, straightening out his batman pajamas. He didn't want to walk past the man to get to the living room, back to his mother, but that was the only way._

 _On shaky feet, Brock started to dart across the kitchen, but was snatched up by the man. His heart seemed to stop as he felt his clothes being tugged and he feet being lifted off the ground. He couldn't even scream. Then, with so much force that it knocked the air from him, he felt the man smack him with a loud skin on skin pop._

 _He repeated in three or four more times, and the scream that was boiling up in his throat finally came out in a loud wail._

 _Lola bolted up right on the couch, and for moment, she forgot where she was. She had thought Brock had woken up from a nightmare and was already out of bed, ready to go and comfort him, before she realized where she was. She was in Cerulean City, in Rose Vaughn's house and Brock was not next to her on the floor in his sleeping bag._

 _The light from the kitchen illuminated everything and she rounded the corner to find Brock, sitting on the kitchen floor, with his pants pulled down and his backside raw red. Tears streamed down his face as he wailed in pain, reaching out for her._

 _Anger welled up inside of her and she picked her son off of the floor, pulling his pajama shorts over his behind._

 _"What the hell is going on here?" She asked._

 _"He should be asleep," Rose said, lighting a cigarette._

 _"He got his ass-whooped because he was in here spying on us," he took a cigarette from Rose and lit it, blowing smoke towards Lola. "You want your boy to see two people fucking before he's three years old? Keep him in bed."_

 _Lola glared at him, and if she wasn't holding Brock, who was still crying into her shoulder and clinging tightly to her, she would have hauled off and smacked him right in the face._

 _"You don't EVER, EVER touch my kids. I don't hit my children!" Lola screamed, letting her anger get the best of her. "I don't want complete strangers hitting my children, either! Rose, if you can't do better than this, then I am out of here. You will have to find yourself a new babysitter!"_

 _Rose took another drag of her cigarette. "Fine. Then leave. Go back to Pewter City with your handsome gym leader boyfriend, and take your screaming kid with you. He's going to wake up my girls and I want to have sex tonight." She blew the smoke out of her nose and smiled at the man._

 _Rose gathered her purse from the door, and brought Brock out into the humid night air, put him in the backseat of her Chevrolet Celebrity. His screaming had calmed down and now he was fretting so bad, Lola was afraid he would stop breathing._

 _"Honey, calm down, OK? We're going back to see Daddy, OK?" She buckled him in tight and kissed his forehead. She got into the driver's seat and pulled out onto the street, headed straight for the highway that connected Cerulean to Pewter, and as she looked back in the rearview mirror, she knew, this time, she wasn't returning to Cerulean City._

 _..._

Brock tucked the blanket around Fiona's shoulders, and Eevee took her space next to Fiona near the window. She looked up at her father, a sense of uneasiness in her eyes, and Brock pulled up a chair next to her bed and sat down.

"What's wrong, Sweety?" He asked, brushing her hair back from her face. "You feeling OK?"

She nodded, silently. Then looked at him with those blue green eyes she had gotten from her mother. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Princess?" He asked.

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" She asked, innocently. Her eyes went towards her closet and Brock followed her gaze.

"Well, sure I can," he said, standing up and walking towards the closet. "Are you afraid your closet?"

"Sometimes I hear noises," she told him, feeling a shiver creep up her spine.

Brock reached for the doorhandle, and Fiona tensed up, fearing that whatever was in there would jump out. But she knew her father was strong and brave and could defeat any monster. But the closet was filled with nothing except her dresses, shoes, and some toys.

"See? Look, nothing there," he said, shutting the door again and sitting back next to her bed. Fiona sank down into her quilt, and Brock flicked on her nightlight. "Now, just go to sleep. You have your nightlight and Eevee. And I'll be here until you fall asleep."

Fiona closed her eyes, feeling safe in her father's presence.

"And Mommy and I are just across the hall," he reminded her, just like Misty did every night. But she remembered that horrible nightmare, or what she believed was a nightmare, when she couldn't get in there, to crawl in their bed and seek comfort.

Her tiredness eventually won out, and Brock stood up, quietly to exit the room, but just before he pulled the door open, he heard something. A bump, as if something had fallen in Fiona's closet. It was slight, so slight he was almost convinced he could have imagined it.

Almost.

...

Eve Castillo enjoyed her Sunday afternoons at the Coffee shop. She had dropped Holly off at her mother's house, rented a book from the library, and headed down the Pewter's Coffee and Tea shop, with free wi-fi and a quiet atmosphere.

As she read to the fifth chapter of the book, she wondered why she had chosen a romance novel. Why not a thriller? Or a supernatural plot? Hell, why not even go with non-fiction? Anything but romance.

But why had she picked it? And why did Piper Segal, the female star in this book, seem to look alot like herself, despite the author saying she was blond? And why did Jack McCoy, the hero of the book and Piper's love interest, resemble Brock Harrison? In her mind, this was just another fantasy playing out in her head, with the characters molding themselves into what she wanted most.

She put the book down half-way through the fifth chapter. Now, it was just getting depressing and she knew she probably wouldn't finish this book. The real love of her life, Holly's father, was dead, but the worst part of it was that Holly's father didn't die while they were together.

No, they had split up. She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the cover of her paperback romance novel,that was folded badly at the spine from the many years of use it got at the library. As her mind drifted, she felt as old and worn out as her forgotten book.

 _January 2007_

 _Eve Castillo sat on the couch, reading a paperback novel. The windows were open, and she allowed the warm, gentle breeze off the coast of Valencia Island fill the house. She had been feeling sick all day long, and she figured she must have gotten the stomach bug, common in the winter time, but she had thought that the warm temperatures down here would ward off any flu epidemics._

 _It was nighttime, and she had let time get away from her again, absorbed in her novel, but when she finished chapter 16, she placed her book mark in her page and checked her cell phone for the time. It was past midnight...and he still wasn't home._

 _Where was he?_

 _She stood up and went out on the porch, looking out as the ocean crashed against the sand, then retreated back out, and repeated again. The moon was light a spotlight and lit up everything almost as if it were daytime. The queasiness in her stomach started up again as she watched the water rock slightly to the rhythm of an approaching storm._

 _Then she saw a figure approaching the house and her queasiness gave way to fear, but then, relief. It was him. He was home!_

 _Her fiance walked up the stairs, his black hair was stringy and wet, and he walked right by her without saying so much as a word._

 _"W-where have you been?" She asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. He sighed, letting his shoulders slump._

 _Why does she always have to nag? He asked himself. Turning around, his eyes blazed with anger and annoyance._

 _"I was just having some drinks with the guys, Eve!" He raised his voice and went to the fridge, popping open a beer and taking a swig. He spotted her book and laughed at the front cover, showing two lovers ripping at eachother's clothes in a fit of passion._

 _"Women shouldn't read. It gives them ideas," he said, and Eve furrowed her brow._

 _"I like to read!" She growled angrily._

 _"Maybe you should become a teacher or something," he said, mostly jokingly but Eve didn't think that was such a bad idea._

 _She went up to hug him, but he backed away._

 _"I'm covered with sea water, Babe," he headed towards the stairs. "I'm going to take a shower. Let my buzz calm down. Be up and in bed in 20 minutes." He winked at her, and Eve sighed. Why couldn't he be the like the men in the romance novels?_

 _Without the distraction of his entrance, Eve's stomach started to twist again, and she went to the bathroom in the hallway. Resisiting the urge to wretch at the site of the open toilet, she pulled open a drawer and shuffled through it until she found it. An EPT._

 _Sitting down, the sensation of having to piss didn't take long, and she laid the sick flat on the kitchen sink. Almost immediately, a strong blue plus sign formed in the window and Eve felt dizzy, thinking she might actually throw up now._

 _The sensation passed, however, and she grabbed the stick, exiting the bathroom and making her way upstairs. Her fiance was just getting out of the shower, drying his chin-length dark hair with a towel. His eyes had cleared up a bit, that shower had done him some good, and she felt the panic she had felt when she first saw that plus sign slowly start to fade. Maybe...maybe he would OK with this._

 _He even smiled at her._

 _"Come here, Sexy," he pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips and she kissed him back, but pushed him away a moment later._

 _"Wait, honey, I...I have to tell you something," she said, and that's when he noticed her hands behind her back._

 _"What?" He asked._

 _She pulled the test out from behind her back and he stared at it. A plus sign. Positive. He was...he was going to be a dad? He was going to be a dad!_

 _His eyes clouded over and Eve wasn't sure what his reaction would be now. Then, in an instant, her worse fears came to life._

 _"You're pregnant?" He asked. "What the fuck, Eve! I thought you were on the pill!"_

 _"I am...I mean, I was...but... I haven't been able to afford them," she backed away from him and he pushed past her. "Where are you going?"_

 _"If you think I'm going to be a daddy at 19 years old, you have another thing coming!" He grabbed a handful of clothes and his wallet. Then picked up his backpack at the door._

 _"Y-you're leaving me?" Eve asked, tears spilling out of her eyes._

 _"Get rid of it," he told her, shaking his head. "I don't want any kids. We've talked about this, Eve."_

 _"Please don't leave me," she clung to him, but he shoved her off._

 _"Get off of me!" He screamed, pushing her back. "I'll pay for the abortion, but just get rid of the thing and don't ever talk to me again!" He slammed the door in her face. He stumbled out onto the beach, his toes sinking deep into the cool sand._

 _He walked for what felt like hours, but was probably only 15 minutes. He wanted to be as far away from Eve as possible. He had never, ever intended on getting her pregnant. He couldn't bring a child in on his income, which was practically nothing, and Eve didn't work because she was still in college. Hell, he hadn't even gotten the chance to go to college and study art like he wanted to._

 _The breeze carried a sound, and with it, a scent. A scent that immediately sparked something deep within him, arousing him so suddenly it took all the anger and worry away. The sound happened again, and he realized what it was. A woman, and from the sounds of it, she was having the best sex of her life._

 _He followed the sound and soon found the source of it. Two people. A petite girl, and a broad-shouldered guy, their skin shining in the moonlight. He was kissing her all over, touching her and making her make those sounds of pure ecstacy._

 _He readjusted his erection, which had popped up the moment he heard the girl's lustful sobs. He took out his binoculars to get a closer look. He could see the girl's face now. She wasn't just pretty, she was absolutely beautiful. Her long red hair clung to her shoulders with sweat, and he was sure it wasn't just from the humdity. He watched her throw her head back, as the guy who was ravishing her body, expertly played with her nipples and rubbed his hand between her legs._

 _He felt his own hard, stiff erection and began rubbing himself, never taking his eyes off the scene. He could see her breasts now. They were round, full, and perky. Her breathing became heavier, and when she reached orgasm, he couldn't help but let himself go to. He tried to keep quiet, then leaned against the tree, weak from his exertion. He zipped up his pants, and picked up his backpack that he carried everywhere with him._

 _Looking back over at the couple, he glared at the guy who was hovering above the beautiful girl. He seemed to be naturally tan, handsome, with spiked black hair and an overly confident laugh. But that's not who he was focused on. The beautiful redhead who was now shyly pulling back on her shorts, who was leaned against the guy now, as they shared more intimate kisses._

 _His eyes bore into her as he flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook and began to sketch her figure._

 _..._

Eve had Holly 8 months after he had left and had raised her all by herself. Then when she had learned, he had died...no, he had been killed, she almost had lost her mind. She knew he didn't love her, but he was the father of her child, so she had always felt like she owed him something. His dignity, maybe. Or revenge.

Someone blocked her light and brought her out of her thoughts. A thin man, with thin features with a pointed nose stood next to her table, a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

"Excuse me?" He asked. "I'm sorry to bother you, are you Eve Castillo?"

She nodded, sort of vacantly, but then came to the realization of how strange it was to be asked that in the middle of the day at a coffee shop.

"I'm Dr. Warren Martin," the man said. "I'd like to talk to you about something. May I sit down?"

"Sure," she said, inviting him to sit down in the seat across from her. He smiled, and sat down, sipping the coffee he had just ordered.

"Normally, I wouldn't intrude like this," he began, letting out a small sigh. "But I feel like this is urgent, and you're really the only person that I feel obligated to tell this to."

Eve blinked in confusion. "Dr. Martin. I don't believe we've met." She said, thinking maybe this strange old man had the wrong person. Perhaps he was looking for someone else.

"We haven't," he replied, truthfully, and she could tell her was stalling, trying to formulate his words. He clasped his hands together and leaned across the table. "But I know you, or at least, I know who you are. You're Eve Castillo, Holly's mother."

"Is something wrong with Holly?" She asked, panic rising within her.

"No, No," Dr. Martin stated, holding up his hands in defense. "I've never met Holly. This is about...your fiance."

"F-fiance?" She asked. "I don't have...I mean, I did, but..."

He cut her off. "Just hear me out, Ms. Castillo. I'll explain everything."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Brock opened his eyes as the early Monday morning light struggled to get through the drapes over the windows. He had slept a little later than usual because he had stayed up all night making love to his wife, and they had enjoyed it, because it was a rare night where Fiona didn't interrupt them to come and crawl in their bed.

Misty lay with the sheet pulled under her arm, covering her breasts. Brock smiled, she was beautiful, even when she was asleep. He ambled into the bathroom that was adjoined to their bedroom and turned on his electric razor, shaving the stubble away on his face. He then brushed his teeth, and looked over into the bedroom, his wife stirring from her sleep.

She smiled when her eyes adjusted and she saw him. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Sleepy head," he said, after spitting out a wad of toothpaste in the sink and taking a swig of mouthwash.

"What time is it?" She asked, then without waiting for a reply, she looked over at the clock. It was after 9. "Fiona is going to be late for school."

"Ah, it will be fine," he said, shrugging. "It's just preschool. Now me, I'm going to be in big trouble if I'm not down at the gym for my 10 o'clock match."

Misty got to her feet and went into the bathroom, brushing her own teeth and fixing her hair as Brock got dressed. Then she felt him slip his strong arms around her waist and kiss her neck.

"I couldn't get enough of you last night," he growled sensually into her ear, moaning as he felt his erection struggle against the tightness of his denim. She smiled and turned around, allowing him to pull her up into his embrace, and then she heard his jeans hit the floor.

"Let's shower together," he said, already slipping off the nightgown she had put on when she got up.

"Brock, I'll never got Fiona to school on time," she said, kissing him anyway and turning the knob on the shower to warm up the water. Brock discarded his shirt and boxers on the ground, and once the water was warm enough he guided her into it, closing the glass door behind them, and kissing everywhere the warm water was rolling off of.

"Bend over," he whispered and she leaned against the wall, feeling him inside of her with one powerful thrust. She pressed her hands against the tiles on the wall, and looked back at Brock, enjoying the look of pure ecstacy on his face as he enjoyed her.

She moaned, feeling his hands on her hips and he drove deeper and deeper and faster as he could, his hand coaxing her body into her own orgasm. He felt her grow hotter and tigheter around him, and he knew he had made her cum. She tried to keep quiet, but it was hard to do as he kept sending little waves of pleasure rippling through his body as he released himself inside of her, driving deeper and deeper with each convulsion his body made.

He separated from her, turning her around and kissed her passionately on the lips, trying to steady his shaking knees.

"Shit, I really have to get to the gym," Brock said, looking at the clock in the bathroom by the Jacuzzi. He quickly got back into her clothes and fixed his hair, not bothering to shave. A little stubby can be sexy on a man, he supposed.

Misty slipped on the robe she had on when she went in there and picked up her hair brush. Brock kissed her goodbye, and within five minutes he had already left the house. Her whole body was still tingling from the wonderful sex they just had, even if it hadn't lasted long, but that sensation was quickly replaced with apprehension and fear when her foot stepped into something slimy, pushed into the carpet.

"What the hell?" She asked herself. She looked down to see what she had stepped on, and not able to identify it, she reached down to pick it up, but immediately dropped it again. It was a condom. A used one, at that. The tip of it was filled up, and she felt disgusted.

Was this...Brock's?

No, he hadn't used a condom. They were just talking about having another baby, and she had been taking the pill since just after Fiona was born, so he had no reason to...unless...

Her conversation with Lola came rushing back to her, when she had expressed her concerns about Flint's infedelity. Could Brock take after his father? Could he cheat on her in their own bathroom? Make love to another woman in their own shower, just like he did to her a few minutes ago?

No. Brock wouldn't do that. He loved her too much. Then, she thought about Rose. Had Rose brought a man in here that they didn't know about? Had she used their shower as a secret place to have sex at, and in a hurry, her lover had discarded his condom and ran?

She thought about the wonderful sex she had just had with Brock, again. Her naked body pressed against the tile of the wall, while he pounded into her as hard as he could, and suddenly, the thought wasn't so appealing anymore. Who else had been pressed up against that wall?

She washed her hands thoroughly, then wadded up toilet paper and threw the condom in the trash.

...

Brock felt a tinge of disappointment. His 10 A.M. challenger didn't show up, and he didn't have another one until noon. It happened every once in a while, he would have a battle scheduled, and they would either chicken out, forget, or not reach Pewter City at the time they thought they would.

His stomach growled anyway, and he walked into the office where Rose was familiarizing herself with all the paper work.

"Hey, I don't think that challenger is going to show up today. I don't have any battle scheduled until noon. Want to go grab some breakfast?" He asked, making a mental note to call Misty when he got out to the car and offer her some food.

"Oh, no, darling, you go on ahead," she gestured to him. "I ate breakfast before I left this morning."

"Alright," he said, backing out of the office and grabbing his coat of the hanger. He was just putting the key into the driver's door of his truck, when he saw his wife's Honda pull up. She had an angry look on her face, and Brock had wondered what had happened. That sure wasn't directed at him was it? He just gave her great sex before he left the house, she couldn't possibly be mad at him...could she?

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said, as she opened the car door.

"Where is my mother?" She asked.

"She's...in my office," he said, and Misty stomped towards the building, but Brock grabbed her arm.

"Whoa, whoa, Honey, what's going on?" He asked. "What happened?"

"I'm going to tell that bitch to get out right now!" She angrily growled, but Brock didn't let go of her arm. "Let go of me, Brock!"

"Honey, you are going to give yourself a heart attack. Just calm down, and talk to me," He said, opening the door of his truck with his free hand. "Rose has been gone even before we got up today. Listen, I'm out to go grab some food. My challenger bailed on me, so I'm free for about an hour and a half. Want to go somewhere and talk?"

Misty nodded, resigning herself to yelling at her mother later. It always did her some good to sit down and talk to Brock before she did something rash, like scream and yell at her mother and then kick her out, only later to feel guilty about not really thinking it through and letting her anger get the best of her. She had fumed all the way to Fiona's school though, dropping her off and hurrying to the Pewter Gym ready to blast her. But Brock always had a way of calming her down.

She climbed into his big truck, leaving her own car in front of the gym. As he started on the road that led to the gym, Misty stared out the window. Then as if the words were someone elses' and she had no control over what she was saying, she asked him: "Was it yours?"

Brock kept his eyes on the road. "Was what mine?"

"The condom." She replied, her eyes boring into the side of his face, so hard he almost felt like she was going to drill a hole right through it.

"Honey, I haven't bought a box of condoms since way before we got married," He grinned, and placed his hand on her leg. "What are you talking about?"

He kept his eyes on the road, until she spoke again, her voice revealing the tears she was keeping at bay.

"Don't ever cheat on me, Brock," her voice quivered, and Brock slowed the truck on the shoulder of the road.

"Hey, hey," he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Misty, don't cry. I would never cheat on you. I ran half way across the world just to be with you and apologize for being such an idiot. I took a bullet for you. You saved my life..."

She looked up at him, her blue green eyes, glistening with tears in the late morning sun.

"We've been through this," Brock whispered, his voice pierced the silence of the truck. A car sped by a whoosh, and then another, then silence. "I love you and Fiona more than anything in this world."

Misty felt him wipe away the tears, and her offered her a smile, the same smile that always made her feel better all those nights when they were teenagers, and she was homesick. She would go and talk to him until three or four in the morning, and he would tell her he felt homesick too, sometimes, and somehow after their talk she wouldn't feel homesick at all. She felt at home with him.

"C'mon, let's get you some food and you can tell me what the hell is going on," he said, pulling the truck back onto the road. Just down the road was Pewter City Coffee and Tea. He went up to the register, ordered a coffee and a strussel muffin, and Misty ordered an iced Mocha and large bagel.

They picked a table that wasn't saturated by the sun through the windows and Brock sipped his coffee.

"So what's going on with you?" He asked. "Why are you asking me about condoms?"

She sighed. "I found one, in the bathroom. Right after you left...I stepped right on it. It was disgusting."

He chuckled, just a little. "I promise you, it wasn't mine. I can't even find condoms big enough to fit me." He then broke out into laughter.

Misty rolled her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips, she slapped her arm. "Brock!"

"I'm kidding!" He said, his laughter dying down as he tasted the muffin. "Seriously, though, you know it wasn't mine. Maybe...Rose?"

"Well, that's why I was so angry," she said, pushing the idea that it was Brock's out of her mind for good. It was silly for her to even think that! "She shouldn't be bringing strange men into our home and having sex with them in our showers. Especially ones who can't even clean up after themselves."

Brock nodded, in agreement, chewing his food. He thought back to the conversation he and Rose had a couple days ago, about the type of men she used to hang around with. Child molesters, rapists, probably even murderers and now anger even started to form inside of him. He didn't want strange men around his daughter or his wife.

"Look, I'll have a talk with her, OK?" He said. "I don't want you stressing yourself out. And I know talking to her isn't the easiest thing for you."

Misty smiled at him and finished off her bagel, wiping her hands of crumbs. It was better than Brock talked to her, because Misty knew she would only end up losing her temper at her mother, and Brock was level-headed and laid back.

Brock shoved the last of the muffin in his mouth. "I have to be back at the gym in 20 minutes." He said, his mouth so full, Misty probably wouldn't have understood him if she hadn't known him for 7 years.

They drove back to the Pewter Gym, this time, the heavy silence and doubt that weighed down the inside of the cab was gone and they sang along to the radio, catching some cheesy love song and singing to eachother, then laughing at themselves as they pulled up in front of the gym.

"I have to pee," Misty said, stepping out of the cab.

He opened the door to the gym and Misty walked past him, straight towards the bathroom and he prepared for his upcoming match. He hoped this one would show up. He heard noises coming from his office, and he checked his watch. Maybe his challenger had shown up a little early.

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed through the gym and Misty stepped out, noticing Brock was preoccupied by something.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Then she heard it, too. Noises coming from his office. A feeling of dread washed over her. Oh God, no. Her mother couldn't be...not in Brock's gym. She felt embarassed, not only for herself, but for her mother too.

The look Brock gave her let her know that he was thinking the exact same thing, and he made his way to the office. She hesitated, but followed and soon the two of them were right outside the door. His office door was locked.

Knowing full well he didn't permit Rose to ever lock the door to his office, he frantically fumbled with his keys, and shoved the key into the lock, turning it and then swinging it open. There, on his desk, Rose lay on her back, naked, covered in a sweat, with her legs in the air and between them...Brock could hardly believe his eyes.

His father. His skin shined with a thin layer of sweat as he pounded himself as hard as he could into Rose, who was wrapping her legs tight around his waist. Her body writhing underneath him as waves of pleasure rippled through her.

Misty and Brock stood frozen for a long moment. Misty felt as if she was going to throw up.

Rose turned her head towards Brock, and their eyes locked. For a moment, Brock was sure she would jump up, shocked that she had been caught, but she didn't. She just smiled, and finally Brock found his voice.

"D-dad!" He shouted, and Flint immediately jumped up, covering himself with his shirt, and looking horrified when he processed what had just happened.

"Brock, this isn't-"

"I don't want to hear it, Dad!" He said, putting his hand up. Rose picked up her clothes off the ground.

"Brock, wait, let me explain," Flint told him, but Brock simply waved him off.

"You've never wanted to explain yourself before!" He shouted, then he looked over at Misty who had turned as white as a ghost. Then he faced his father again. "It was your condom wasn't it?"

"Condom? I've been with your mother for 32 years. You honestly think I own condoms?" Flint asked, then realized he had made a mistake, judging by the look on his son's face.

"Didn't stop you from putting your dick in places it doesn't belong," he glared at Rose, then back at Flint. "I'm done getting in your business, Dad. But don't think I'm not going to tell Mom."

"Brock, no, please you can't..." He ran after him and grabbed his shoulder, but Brock shoved him back, with alot of force.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Brock screamed at the top of his lungs, and it seemed to have brought Misty out of her trance. She had only seen Brock that angry one time...that one time when Tracey had attacked her in the flower garden in Pallet Town and he had almost killed him.

Misty rushed over to him and rubbed his arm. He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. He then moved his lips just next to her ear, his voice was smooth and soft.

"I will never, ever, do anything like this to you," he said, and Misty heard the tremor in his voice as tears threatened to betray him. When she looked up at him though, she could see they had already formed in his eyes and he blinked them back.

"I know, I'm...I'm sorry I even thought that..." she said, as he pulled her for a hug. Then he turned back to his father and Rose, who were, thankfully, dressed by now. "Both of you get out of my gym!"

"Now, hold on just a minute, Son!" Flint's voice boomed out across the gym. "This is my gym! You can't tell me to get out of my own gym."

Brock's face turned into a smirk, and there was no sign of emotion that he had just shown to his wife less than a minute before. "I've ran this gym better than you ever could, Dad. It takes a real man to run Pewter City gym. And you aren't a real man. You never were!"

...

 _December 1994_

 _Brock couldn't sleep. He never could sleep on Christmas Eve. The glow of the Christmas tree, and the snow falling outside, just waiting for Santa to bring him presents. It was like magic. Lola had sent him, and his little brother, Forest, to bed hours ago, and though his two little sisters, Suzy and Cindy were just infants, barely even a year apart, she still insisted they must also be asleep before Santa would come._

 _The two of them had snuck downstairs and found their mother in the kicthen, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. She heard their not so subtle footsteps and looked up._

 _"Brock? Forest?" She said, her soft brown hair bouncing with just the slightest movement of her head. "What are you two doing awake? Santa will be here any minute and if he sees you two up, he's going to give his toys to other little boys. Do you want that to happen?"_

 _Brock and Forest both shook their heads in unison and Lola's stern face soon softened into a smile._

 _"Oh, come here, you two little monsters!" She giggled and pulled them up into a hug._

 _"Can I have some hot chocolate?" Brock asked, climbing into a chair._

 _"Me too!" Forest said, and Lola sighed._

 _"Well, it is Christmas," she said, going over to the fridge to get the milk out. "But as soon as you are done. You must go to bed."_

 _The clock on the oven read just after midnight, and she tried to hide her worry from her two boys. Flint still wasn't back yet. But she knew where he was. He was drinking. Again. Just like he did every other night. And she knew the real reason she wanted her children in bed asleep, because if they were awake when he got home, and he decided he wanted to have sex, it wouldn't turn out good for anyone._

 _She warmed up the coffee mugs and poured cocoa mix into both, and set them down in front of her sons. Brock sipped it and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve._

 _"It's good, Mommy," he said, kicking his legs excitedly._

 _Forest agreed with a nod of a his head._

 _Then, the front door cracked open, and Lola felt panic rise within her. Oh, please, God, don't let him be in a bad mood tonight._

 _Brock and Forest looked at eachother, their eyes wide with excitement._

 _"Santa!" They both squealed in Unison._

 _"You boys stay in here," Lola told them. "Do not peek. Whatever you do...Santa will take your toys away if you peek. Do you understand me?" Her voice held a firmness that told Brock she was completely serious and he decided, no matter how bad he wanted to get a peek at Santa, that he wouldn't, and he knew Forest would follow his decision._

 _"Lola!" His voice bellowed through the house, and Brock knew it wasn't Santa. He stood up, abandoning his hot cocoa and leading his little brother behind the cabinets in the kitchen. Hiding. Shaking. He didn't want to get a beating tonight._

 _Lola walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he stumbled into the living room. He glanced at the tree, glowing with Christmas lights, and the presents that adorned the bottom of it._

 _"What's all of this shit?" He asked._

 _"I leave the Christmas lights on for the kids on Christmas Eve. You know, so Santa can see where to put the presents," she smiled, but she saw him snarl._

 _"Stupid." He muttered, and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke right in her face. She coughed. "Aren't they smart enough to know it's not real? Stupid damn kids got rocks for brains or something?"_

 _"They're little, Flint," she said, still trying to clear the smoke from her lungs. "It's fun for them."_

 _"Ain't fun for me," he growled, irritably, and smashed his cigarette into the floor. "God damn it, Lola! Clean that up!"_

 _"But Flint-"_

 _"Now!" He screamed, and she rushed over by the door, picked up the broom and dust pan and swept up the cigarette, discarding it in the trashcan._

 _Forest looked over at Brock as they hid behind the L-shaped cabinets in their kitchen. The sound of his father's loud voice was enough to make him cry, and he watched the tears spill down his brother's cheeks. Brock knew he couldn't cry. He had to protect his little brother and his mother._

 _Forest had learned not to scream or make any noise when he cried. He knew that only made his father more angry._

 _Flint's smiled curled into a mischevious grin and he pulled Lola close to him. "Are you going to give me some of that sweet pussy?" He laughed and the alcohol burned her nostrils._

 _"Let's go upstairs," she said, but knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with that._

 _"Why go up there?" He asked, pulling her close and kissing her. The scent of the booze he had been drinking all night was strong on his tongue as he forced it inside of her mouth. "Why not right here on the couch? We have this romantic lighting from the tree. We can fuck all night right here on the couch until the brats wake up."_

 _Pushed her down on the couch and she hoped Brock and Forest would just go on to bed. He kissed her, hard on the mouth and Lola instictively pushed him away, even though she knew it was the wrong thing to do._

 _He stopped and looked down at her. "Oh? What are you now? Too good to fuck me, miss Lola Bunny?" He laughed, almost wickedly._

 _"The kids...The kids are awake," she said, and he laughed even louder._

 _"So? How do you think they got here?" He kissed her again and Lola resisted again, knowing she shouldn't have, but the scent the alcohol made her want to gag._

 _"Flint..."_

 _"God damn it, Lola!" He screamed, and the walls seemed to shake with his anger. Forest buried his face into Brock's chest and Brock held him close, comforting him._

 _"It's OK, Forest," Brock whispered, his voice barely audible and cracked with tears of his own that he refused to let show. "It's OK. I won't let him hurt you."_

 _"I don't want to him to hit you again," Forest said, looking up, his face red with tears that he let flow freely._

 _"It's OK," Brock forced a smile and winked. "I can take it."_

 _But somehow, Forest knew he couldn't. He knew it hurt him, and he knew that the beatings got worse and worse eachtime._

 _Brock's heart clenched at the sound of his mother crying, as his father began to throw things. He heard a loud crash and the Christmas tree fell to the floor, plunging the living room into the blackness of night._

 _Then, he immediately heard the sickening slap of Flint's hand against his mother's flesh and something inside Brock just snapped. He rose up to his feet, settled Forest by the cabinets and rushed into the living room. The light from the kitchen showed his mother on the floor, and his father on top of her, delivering slap after slap to his mother's face._

 _"Stop!" Brock yelled, but his little voice didn't carry much over his father's bellowing one._

 _"You God Damn slut!" Flint screeched, pulling Lola by the hair and slamming her face into the wall. Brock watched with horror, frozen by fear, and willing himself to move. To do something._

 _Lola screamed in agony as she sank to the floor, only to be yanked up by her hair again and dragged into the kitchen, where he threw her towards the oven._

 _"If you ain't gonna fuck me, at least feed me!" He slammed his fist on the counter and Brock rushed back in the kitchen, worried about Forest. In the light of the kitchen he could see the cuts and red marks on his mother's face, and the tears that streamed down her cheeks._

 _"It's OK, Baby," his mother's voice was barely audible through her tears as she turned on the oven and boiled water, her eyes never leaving Brock's as he cradled his little brother in his arms._

 _"What the hell are they doing up?" Flint yelled again, piercing Brock's eardrums._

 _"They...they just wanted..." Lola began, but trailed off when she saw Flint approaching them. No! No! Not again! She would die before she let Flint lay a hand on Brock again. The last beating he gave him nearly sent him to the hospital, and...and if she was a good mother, she would have taken him. But she didn't want her children taken from her. She couldn't live here with Flint without him._

 _She stepped in front of Brock and Forest._

 _"No! You won't touch them, Flint!" She felt a boldness come over her, even though her voice shook, she still sheilded her boys from the beast. The beast she had married and had given four beautiful children to._

 _He slapped her out of the way, and picked Brock up by his shirt collar, choking him as he did so. Brock quivered with fear, and he felt blow after blow to his chest, back, legs and head until his father threw him down on the floor. With a soar body he scrambled to his feet, and Flint knocked dishes in the floor, shattering them, before stumbling upstairs to the bedroom._

 _Lola, a bit dizzy from being slapped, crawled over to her boys on the floor. Her lip was cut, swollen and bleeding, and her cheeks were puffy with tears and cuts. She pulled her boys away from the shattered glass and leaned up against the oven, having no strength to move much, except to gather her boys in her arms. Brock shuddered in her embrace, as sobs overtook his body._

 _He wasn't strong enough._

 _He wasn't strong enough to protect her!_

 _..._

He lost his match, and as he refunded the young kid from Pewter City his fee and a shiny boulder badge, Misty walked down from the balcony above the battlefield.

"Honey, are you OK?" She asked, and he sat down, burying his face in his hands.

"I don't...I don't know," he said, sighing. "I just...I don't know how I'm going to tell my Mom. Or...even if I should tell her."

Misty sat down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder and he took her small hand into his. Her wedding ring glistened in the lights above the gym. She was silent as she waited for him to speak again, sensing that he had more to say.

"As much as I want to, I can't Rose out," Brock said, and Misty looked at him, puzzled.

"W-why?" She asked, a little unsure of the question.

"Because I can't just kick a woman out, knowing she has no place to go," Brock stood up and paced in front of her. "I can't kick anyone out on the street. I'm just...not that kind of person. Especially a woman."

"So, she's staying?" Misty asked, knowing he was right. They couldn't just kick people out and enjoy their priveleges and blessings when they were the direct cause for someone being homeless. No matter what dispicable things they may have done.

"For now," he said, shaking his head, disagreeing with himself about his decision already. "Until we can find her a place to go."

"What about my sisters?" Misty asked, already knowing the answer.

"They won't let her stay with them," Brock replied, flatly. Then he turned back to her and offered his hand to help her up off the platform on which he stood when he was battling. "It's almost 3 o'clock. Fiona's almost out."

"Oh, right!" Misty headed out of the gym. "I'll see you at home!"


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Misty got to the school two minutes early, but instead of Fiona concentrating on the clock like she normally did, she was playing jumprope with a group of girls. Eve handed Misty the clipboard to sign her name out.

"She's doing a lot better," Eve said, and Misty smiled.

"I'm glad. Brock and I were worried she might not adjust, but she looks like she's having a lot of fun," Misty said, and then Eve pulled her aside.

"Listen, can I ask you a favor?" Eve asked, lowering her voice so the other parents couldn't hear her. "I have to travel to Celadon City tonight. It's...It's a family emergency. I can't get a sitter on such short notice, and I was figuring since Fiona and Holly are such good friends, that maybe she can spend the night at your house."

"It's a school night," Misty said, but then shrugged. They were four years old. How late could they possibly stay awake?

"You can take Holly to school tomorrow morning with Fiona," Eve said. "I'll pick her up tomorrow afternoon. I have an overnight bag for her in my car."

"Alright," Misty agreed, and Eve signaled for one of the other teachers to take over while she went out ot the car to get Holly's overnight bag. Misty walked over to where Fiona was playing jump rope. She was the only jumping, while Holly and another child were on each end, swinging it in a rhythm and singing a tune.

"Fiona?" She asked, and Fiona glanced over.

"Not now, Mommy," she said, breathlessly. "I'm almost to 30!"

Misty didn't want to ruin her concentration, and impressed that Fiona could already count to at least 30 without any help, she watched until finally Fiona didn't make the jump, and they all burst out into a fit of giggles.

"Whose turn is it now?" A blond headed little girl asked.

"I gotta go," Fiona said, pointing over to Misty. "My Mommy is here."

"Holly," Misty said, motioning for the little girl to come over. Holly rushed over and stood next to Fiona, who clung tight to her mother, despite the fun she was having just a minute ago. "Listen, your mother wants you to come and spend the night with Fiona. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Holly's eyes lit up. "Really? We get to play all night?"

"Well, maybe not all night," Misty said, smiling warmly. "But maybe I can give you guys some ice cream and a movie before bed. Does that sound like fun?"

"Yea!" Fiona cheered, and Holly looked towards the door to see her mother approaching them.

"Here you go," she said, handing the bag to Misty. "It's got her pajamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow. A long with her favorite Squirtle doll."

"OK," Misty slung the bag over her shoulder. "Thank you, Eve. I'll make sure the girls have lots of fun tonight." She looked down at both of them and outstretched her hand. "OK, now hold my hand when we walk out into the parking lot."

Holly and Fiona both grabbed her hand and Eve watched them walk toward the car.

She wished she could bring Holly home to her father one day.

...

 _February 1994_

 _Cerulean City was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Misty woke up, kicking the quilt off of her sweatsoaked body. It took her a moment, but she remembered where she was. She was at home, in her bed, and even though her room was dark, the moon outside reflected off the snow and banished all the shadows in her room._

 _She pulled the quilt up around her nose, trying to ward off the cold and the terror that had gripped her during her nightmare. Finally, deciding to brave the walk to her mother's room, to curl up beside her and escape the cold chill, Misty placed her tiny socked feet on the hardwood floor below her bed and exited her room, seeing the door at the end of the hall._

 _Misty ran as fast as her tiny legs would carry her, holding her Horsea doll in her hands. She turned the knob and opened the door, but stopped when she saw what was inside. She recognized her mother's shoes, six inch red stilletos that Misty thought were stilts. They were raised high in the air, and a large man, who she did not recognize was on top of her mother. She heard, what she thought was sobbing or crying, like she was in pain, and Misty searched for her voice._

 _"Mommy?" She finally choked out, her eyes growing wide._

 _The man turned his head towards her, peering at her from over his shoulder. He had a wide grin and something about it sent a shiver up Misty's spine. He was leering at her, and his expression changed, as his body stiffened and he let out a loud moan, all the while keeping his eyes on her._

 _She shuddered and closed the door, suddenly longing for the shadows of her bedroom. She hurried across the cold hallway and dove back into her room, closing the door and clambering back into bed. She was no longer afraid of what was in her room, but was suddenly afraid of what lay beyond the door._

 _That man. He was not a good man. He was hurting her mother, and now he wanted to hurt her, too. The house was quiet. Eerily quiet. Then, she heard the creaking of the door and heavy footsteps start down the hall._

 _Instincts kicked in, and Misty struggled to open the window, budging it just enough to fit her tiny body through. There was a 3 foot drop, but she climbed trees plenty of times, and so she braced herself for the fall, landing in a bush and rolling to her feet._

 _The cold was biting and penetrated her fleece pajamas, but the fear was starting to subside. She looked up to her bedroom window, and even though the wind was howling against her, making her eyes water, she could see a face._

 _Fear gripped her again, chilling her far more than the winter ever could. A man stared down at her from her bedroom window, and she stood up, running away from the house when she heard a voice. She spun around and saw her three older sisters around the backside of the house. She ran to the them, and Violet wrapped a coat around her little sister and popped her tiny feet into some oversized boots. Misty's toes were numb for running in the snow._

 _"Just stay here. Stay quiet," Daisy said, her three sisters taking their baby sister and huddling around her to keep her warm. She shivered, and looked up at them, keeping her voice to a whisper._

 _"Why are we out here?" Her voice shook because of the cold, but mostly out of fear._

 _"That man is a bad man, Misty," Violet said. Being almost 10 years old, she fully understood what he was, and she knew when she saw her little sister fall from her bedroom window at 2 A.M., without any shoes on, that he had come after her._

 _Misty kept quiet and cuddled into Violet's coat, warding off the cold with her body heat. She wondered if they would have to stay out here all night, and she had no idea when the sun would be up. When the front door flew open, Violet clutched Misty close to her, sheilding her from view before they all retreated back into the shadows of the night._

 _The man stumbled out of the house and into an old toyota, his feet crunching heavily in the snow. Then he drove off, making long tire tracks in the snow that heavily dusted the road. Violet waited for a moment, then signaled that it was alright for her sisters to come out._

 _They snuck back inside the house, her sisters immediately racing to their rooms and closing their doors, but Misty wasn't quite fast enough and her mother met her in the hallway. She glared down at her 3 years old daughter, and dragged on her cigarette, blowing the smoke right in her face._

 _Misty coughed and closed her eyes, trying to get her eyes to stop burning._

 _"What do you think you are doing awake at this hour, Young lady?" Rose asked, her voice harsh and rough._

 _"I-I had a bad dream," Misty answered, looking towards her sister's closed bedroom doors. They were awake, too, but Misty didn't say anything._

 _"Do you know what happens to little girls who aren't in bed when they are supposed to be?" Rose asked her, gripping her shoulders._

 _Misty shook her head. "No."_

 _"Then I'll show you," she dragged Misty into her bedroom, pulled a leather belt from somewhere in her closet and stripped her of her pants. Misty wasn't sure what was happening until the first blow was delivered. She howled in pain and tears streamed down her face._

 _Whack._

 _Whack._

 _Whack._

 _The cracking of the belt echoed through the house, and finally Misty was released from her mother's grip. Her mother replaced the belt back in her closet and looked at her._

 _"If you don't want that to happen again, then you stay in your bed until I tell you that you can get out of it. Do you understand me, Miss Misty? And close your window. I can't afford to heat the whole damn city!" She yelled, and Misty cried even harder, but nodded her head._

 _"Now quit your bellyaching and get into bed, unless you need a reminder," Rose pointed towards the closet, and Misty clumsily made it back into bed. She made it a point not to make any noise as she cried. Her mother slammed the door shut and plunged her into blackness. A blackness where she felt like she couldn't be seen, and for that, she was grateful._

 _..._

Misty had not spoken to rose since she got home. She busied herself in the kitchen, making rice crispy treats for the girls and making a large jug of kool-aid. Brock's arrival home was marked by the sound of the front door opening.

Fiona ran up to him and he picked her up, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hey! How's my little princess doing today?" He asked, carrying her into the kitchen. He saw Holly standing on a step stool, helping MIsty mix up a bowl of rice crispy treats. He took one off of the trey that she had already cut and took a bite out of it.

"Well, hey there, Holly," Brock said, as he lowered Fiona to the floor.

Holly waved shyly and Brock turned his attention to his wife. "So...how are...things?" He asked, not wanting to draw the children's attention to what had happened just a few hours ago, but they didn't seem interested. They were cutting the gooey mold of rice crispies into stars, hearts and teddy bear shapes. Misty gave them a few cans of colored sprinkles and pulled Brock into the living room.

"I haven't spoken to her since I got home," she said, and Brock sighed.

"I've been fighting with myself all day long about whether or not I should even tell my Mom," Brock kept his voice low. "A part of me wants to because I've always been honest with her, and I love her, but another part of me doesn't want to hurt her."

He thought back to all those times he had protected his mother. Then he looked at his wife again, looking absolutely defeated.

"What do you think I should do?" Brock asked. Misty was a little shocked by his question. He had always been so sure of himself. Even when they were kids, he made the decision of when and where they would eat, sleep or travel to. She and Ash would just follow him, because he knew everything, or so it seemed like. He always had everything under control, but now, he was asking her what he should do.

She brushed his cheek with her hand. "You should have a talk with your mother. She doesn't deserve to be cheated on like that." Misty bit her tongue, refraining from calling her mother a dried up old bitch, but only because she didn't want Fiona to learn to call her grandmother that, even though it was the truth.

"Yea, you're right," Brock leaned in and kissed her briefly, then he smiled and walked back into the kitchen, where the girls were spreading sprinkles all over the rice crispy treats, and the counter.

"Look, Daddy! We made them sparkly!" Fiona pointed to the mess of red, green and blue sprinkles.

"That's very pretty," Brock said, trying to keep his mind off of what he saw this morning. But just as he believed he was succeeding, he heard the clicking of her heels entering the kitchen. Misty stood by the stove, not even acknowleding her mother's presents.

Even the children could feel the tension in the air, as they suddenly got very quiet.

"Brock, may I please talk to my daughter alone for a moment?" Rose asked, flashing a smile over to the girls.

"Sure," Brock said, lifting Fiona off of the stool, then helping Holly down. "I'll take the kids outside."

Misty gave him a look that said "Please don't go," but Brock shot her one back that said "It will be alright, Love." Then he was gone, the girl's giggles returned as they walked out into the backyard. There was a silence between them for a long time, and Rose was the first one to speak.

"I know you're angry," Rose said, and Misty chuckled at the word.

"Angry? Mother, you were screwing my father-in-law right in the place where my husband brings in money for our home," She picked up a block of cheese and began grating it. "And what's worse is you bringing him here and having sex in our shower! What do you think Fiona would think if she caught you kissing, or even doing more than that, to her grandfather in her own home?"

Rose looked at her, quite surprised. "Sweetheart, I assure you. This morning was the first time I've ever slept with Flint Harrison. I've never brought him into this house and had sex with him, much less in your shower." Her voice was calm, controlled, and that made Misty even more angry. How could her mother just sit there and lie through her teeth like that and not even falter just a little? It was like she was dead inside or something.

"Oh?" Misty asked, grating the cheese even harder. "Then tell me what man you brought in here and screwed in our shower then, mother?"

Rose looked at her, puzzled. "Misty, I have never brought a man into this house, and I sure as hell didn't have sex with anyone in your shower!" She paused for a moment, still seeing the look of suspicion in her daughter's eyes.

"I know I haven't been the best mother to you, and even though I came here to try to make things right with you, I know I seem to be making them worse," her eyes were fixed with her youngest daughter's. "But I would never bring anyone into your home without your permission or have sex with them in any part of your house unless you told me it was alright."

Misty looked over at her, then back at the bowl full of grated cheese. The block was almost gone. She peeled back the plastic and continued to grate the cheese. Rose sensed she wasn't going to say anything, and decided to speak.

"Misty, what is going on? What is this all about?" Rose's question hung in the air for a moment, and she wasn't sure if Misty was going to answer her or not.

Then, she put down the block of cheese.

"I found a used condom on our bathroom floor this morning," Misty said, stirring the taco beef in the pan.

"Well, it's probably Brock's," Rose replied.

"It's not," Misty replied. "Brock and I haven't used condoms in a long time. I've been on the pill since after Fiona was born, and we just had a talk and we both want another baby. He has no reasons to use a condom."

"He has no reason to use a condom, with you," Rose pointedly suggested, and Misty paused.

"No, Mom. Brock's not cheating on me," she said, that twinge of doubt forming in her mind once more. But how could she doubt her own husband? How could she doubt that man that stood by her in the delivery room, did the breathing excercises with her? The man who cut the umbilical chord on Fiona when she was born?

The man who made love to her so completely, so passionately and so often? The man who loved her even when she was angry. The man who loved her even when she was overreacting or stressed out. The man who always found a solution to her problems. He wouldn't. He couldn't. And hadn't she already apologized to him for doubting him this morning?

"He does have his father's DNA," Rose said, looking at her, and Misty felt a sharp stab of fear. "Cheating is inherited, Misty."

"He wouldn't do that to me!" Misty raised her voice, but promised herself she wouldn't yell. She didn't want the kids to hear her, especially since this was the first time Holly had spent the night here.

"I'm just saying," Rose said, putting her hands up defensively. "Brock is a very good looking guy. And I saw the way Holly's mother was looking at him on Saturday. You've always known how Brock is...Leaving you for 8 months to stay with some woman on a island, who was old enough to be his mother. Then there was the countless flirting before you two got married. Didn't you find nude photos on his phone of some girl when you were at the beach, the day you got married?"

"Stop it, please!" This time, she did yell, but her voice shook with tears. "Just stop it!" She threw down a spoon, into the sink and raced upstairs. She couldn't explain the condom, but DNA could.

...

Brock sat back in a lounge chair by the pool, reading the local newspaper, as the girls played a game of tag, which had turned into a game of hide-and-go-seek after a while. He peeked into the kitchen, through the paned door and saw that Misty and Rose were still talking.

He could tell by Misty's stance she was getting angry about something, and he wondered if he should intervene, but he reminded himself that Misty was more than capable of taking care of herself. She didn't always need his protection.

He flipped to the sports section, and then he felt something run into his leg. He flipped the corner of the page down to see Holly, staring up at him.

"Can I hide behind you?" She asked, innocently. "Fiona already knows all the good hiding places."

"Be my guest," he said, and Holly dove in behind his seat. Brock heard his own daughter finish counting to ten, then heard her little feet scurry across the grass, ducking behind bushes and looking behind the grill.

"Have you seen Holly, Daddy?" Fiona asked, looking over the edge of the pool.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't seen her."

Fiona crawled in his lap, looking over the top edge of his paper. "Daddy!"

He raised his gaze up to meet hers. "What, Sweetheart?"

"Help me look!" Her voice taking on the tone of a whine, and Brock put her back on the ground and stood up.

"Alright, alright," he said. "Now if I were Holly, where would I be?"

Holly grinned as she listened to Brock intentionally leading Fiona into all the wrong places. The pool shed. Behind the tree. Behind the swing set. Under the picnic table. Then a wave of sadness came over. She didn't have a dad. Well, she had one, of course, her mother had told her about him, but she didn't know him.

She couldn't help but peek out and watch Brock lift Fiona onto his shoulders, so she could look into the tree at the impossible height. Then he jogged around the backyard, with her sitting on his shoulders, acting like he was an airplane and she was soaring through the air.

Unfortunately, her curiosity got her caught and Fiona pointed. "There she is!"

Holly's eyes widened and she stood to her feet. Brock let Fiona down gently onto the grass and he took her seat back in the lounge chair, but the girls seemed to have warn themselves out and Fiona crawled into his lap, leaning her head on his chest.

"You tired?" He asked, brushing the hair back from her face. She nodded slowly.

"And hungry," she said, looking up at him with her big blue eyes. Brock smiled at her, and then noticed Holly who was sitting on the lounge chair next to him, and he noticed the look in her eyes. She looked lonely.

"Hey, you want to go for an airplane ride?" He asked, and Holly's eyes lit up.

"R-really?" She asked. And he nodded, standing up and placing Fiona on the ground. He lifted Holly up and put her on his shoulders.

"Alright, now hold on," he said, and began jogging around the yard, letting Holly touches the leaves in the trees, that were changing colors. She giggled joyfully, and so did Fiona. Brock changed his voice to sound like an official sounding captain.

"This is your captain speaking. Where are you going, Miss Holly?" He asked.

"Candyland!" Holly giggled, and Brock made a sound that was similar to a radio turning on.

"Candyland it is!" He said, jogging her around for another 20 or 30 seconds, then stopping by the pool and speaking again. "This is your captain speaking. You have now arrived at your destination!"

He let Holly down gently and she giggled, and Brock settled back down into the lounge chair. This time, both girls crawled in his lap and Brock wondered about what was going on in the kitchen. He hoped Misty hadn't murdered her mother by now.

Holly leaned her head on his shoulder. "I wish you were my Daddy." She said, and Fiona smiled.

"Then I could have a sister!" She grinned and Brock looked over at Holly.

"Where is your Daddy?" He asked, and Holly pointed to the sky.

"Heaven," she replied, her big brown eyes locked on his. "Mommy said he went there before I was born."

"I'm sorry about that, Holly," Brock said, a feeling of sadness washed over him. He remembered how much he loved his dad, and how much it hurt him when he started to drink. The sad he remembered from his very early youth had somewhat died, too, when the alcohol came into play.

Misty's voice suddenly penetrated the windows, and Brock looked inside, he could tell Misty was yelling.

"Hey, listen, I have to go in and check on Mommy, OK?" He said, and Fiona began to crawl off of his lap, Holly followed. "If you two can promise me that you will stay in the yard, and not get in the pool while I'm not out here, I'll let you stay out here and still play, OK?"

"OK," Fiona promised and Holly nodded.

"OK, Fiona's Daddy."

Brock smiled down at both of them, and ruffled their hair a bit. "Remember, stay in the yard. No pool."

They both nodded again, and Brock felt confident enough to leave them alone for a few moments while he stepped inside to find out what had made his wife so angry. However, as soon as he opened the door, she had bolted up the stairs.

"Misty!" He called out, after closing the door to the backyard shut. "Oh Jesus...Rose, what did you say to her this time?"

"I told her the condom she found could have been yours, and she freaked out," Rose shrugged her shoulders. He growled in frustration.

"Misty!" He called out, up the stairs, and he could see their bedroom door was closed. He didn't want to leave the kitchen area, because he was still keeping an ear out for the girls, and he could see they were back to running around the yard, chasing eachother.

"The condom isn't mine," He said, and Rose raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "It's not." He reinerrated.

"Then whose is it? She accused me of bringing your father in here," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I-I don't know," he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We had Ash over a couple weeks ago. He brought a long that girl he's with. Maybe it's his. But it's not mine. And if it's not yours..."

"Then that's the only explanation, right?" Rose asked, shaking her head. "I'm going to freshen up before dinner."

...

Fiona looked at the gate that surrounded their property. It was made of wood, and she remembered her dad painting it a deep red color the year before. She had wanted to help, but he hadn't let her. She was sad about that, but she was curious about what was beyond the gate.

Holly ran up behind her and smiled. "Wanna see what's on the other side?"

"My daddy says not to," Fiona said, trying to ignore her own curiosity.

"Well, we won't leave the yard," Holly said. "He said we couldn't leave the yard, but that doesn't mean we can't open the gate."

"I don't know," Fiona said, looking back towards the pool and the lounge chairs, a spot where she could see inside the kitchen, see her father talking to her grandmother. Or the woman she was told was her grandmother, but didn't feel like one.

"C'mon," Holly said. She was a little taller than Fiona, and almost almost a whole year older. "He won't know if we just peek really quick. We'll close it right back." She reached for the latch and slid it over, out of the socket it was in.

Then, she pushed the door open, but it didn't budge.

"It's stuck," Holly said, pushing it with more force. She was just stronge enough to push against the resistance. Fiona eagerly between the gate and the rest of the fence, and what lay beyond it made her scream so loud she felt her throat was bleeding.

A face of a girl, her eyes popped open, bulged out and swollen stared back at her. Her jaw hung open as if she was stuck in a permenant scream, and her skin was a sickly gray color, and her flesh was starting to rot and fall off the bone, exposing her teeth. Holly gasped as she too had seen it and blood curdling screams filled the neighborhood. Holly immediately let go of the fence.

Brock heard them screaming and immediately rushed to the door, yanking it open and running into the backyard just in time to have the two little girls run into his arms, visibly shaken and so terriffied that they wouldn't stop screaming or crying. They clung to him tightly.

"Hey, hey, hey," he called out. "Shhh. Hey, it's OK. It's OK. I've got you. I've got you, both. OK?"

Fiona looked up at him, her eyes filled with terror, as were Holly's.

Misty ran as fast as she could down the stairs, disreguarding her mother's presence the moment she heard her daughter's scream.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes fell on Brock. "What's wrong, Brock? Fiona, Holly, are you hurt?"

"Did you guys see a big giant bug or something?" He asked, chuckling, trying to calm them down. "You know, Fiona, your mother screams like that when she sees a bug."

Fiona shook her head. "Not-not-not a b-bug," she fretted, trying to catch her breath.

Holly shook her head as well. "A m-m-monster!"

Fiona gripped her father's shoulders so tight he thought he might pass out. He didn't know a four year old little girl could have that much force in her grip.

"Where's the monster?" He asked, deciding he'd play along. Apparently, whatever they had seen had genuinely freaked them out, and this wasn't just four year old little girls spooking eachother out, or being afraid of a cockroach. This seemed to be serious.

Fiona realized she couldn't tell him, and so did Holly. He told them not to go outside the fence, and maybe that meant opening it too. She should have listened. She really should have listened to him.

"Fiona, Holly," he said, looking straight at them. "You have to tell me where the monster is, or I can't protect you. And that's my job. So you have to tell me."

"I'll get in trouble," Fiona said, her eyes falling on her mother. She immediately ran to her, and Misty clutched her tightly in her arms, giving her a warm hug.

"It's OK, Sweety," Misty said, softly. "If something scared you, we need to know where it is, so we can make sure it doesn't hurt you. What exactly did you see?"

Misty was expecting them to describe a snake, or maybe even a harmless large rodent. They weren't uncommon in the area, and to a four year old, anything can be scary.

"Big eyes, looking at me," Fiona muttered, looking back towards the fence door that was now shut closed. Holly ran over to Misty, also seeking comfort in her embrace.

"It's against the fence," Holly said, as Misty wrapped her arms around her as well. "It wouldn't let me open it."

Fiona looked at her father who stood to his feet from his kneeling position. "I told you girls not to leave the yard." However, his voice held no anger, more of an annoyed resignation. He went towards the fence, looking on the ground for any signs of snakes or rodents that might have frightened the girls. Seeing none, he continued, and then swung open the gate.

It was swung open with ease, just a small creaking sound.

Fiona and Holly both tensed in Misty's arms.

Brock looked left and right, stepping out into the grassy lot behind their house that separated their property from their neighbors. Nothing. Nothing but an old shack about 20 yards away that belonged to one of their neighbors.

"Well, girls, whatever it was, it's gone now," He said, closing the gate and locking it. Fiona and Holly couldn't believe it.

"But Daddy," Fiona said. "We saw it!"

"We both did!" Holly confirmed, and Brock gave them a reassuring smile.

"Well the monster knew I was coming, so he ran and hid," he ruffled the hair on both of their heads. "Now come on, it's dinner time and it's starting to get dark."

He lead both girls inside the house and turned off the back light to the yard, plunging it into darkness. A darkness that Fiona and Holly both knew hid that horrible monster in it's depths.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Eve Castillo had been driving all day. It was almost 9 o'clock when she reached Celedon City. It had always had a different feel then Pewter City. It was far more cramped, and a lot more busy. Around this time of night in Pewter, most shops were closing down, except for the all-night grocery stroes. People were headed home from work to be with their families. She was at home, with Holly, curled up with a book, and a fire going if it was in the cold months.

And lately, she would be reading her latest romance novel, imagining Brock making passionate love to her, just like her in her books. She drove around the city for almost a half an hour before he GPS finally led her into the hospital area, and she parked on the 4th floor of the parking garage, winding up and down the floors until she found one, and snuggled her small car into one of the spaces.

An elevator loomed in front of her, and she pressed the button to the 8th floor, which is where Dr. Martin's office was located. When it finally dinged open, she walked out onto the marbled floor, her heels clacking against the shiny tile. He was expecting her around this time, but she still hesitated when she arrived at his office door, his name etched into a plaque on the door.

She knocked and she heard his voice from inside. "Come in."

She turned the silver knob on the door and the wooden door swung open smoothly and she stepped onto the thick carpet that cover the floor of his office. He had two chairs in front of his desk, and Eve wondered how many people have sat in these chairs, only to hear that they have a terminal illness or that their loved one is going to die, or already has.

She remembered laying on a birthing table when she had found out Holly's father had been killed, or, according to Dr. Martin, not killed. That's when things started to get strange.

"Miss Castillo," Dr. Martin began, straightening up some papers on his desk. "I'm sorry to have called you down here to Celadon city on such short notice. But it seems to me that your fiance could be in Pewter City."

"W-what?" She asked. "H-how? W-where?"

"He escaped from our care about 3 days ago," Dr. Martin explained. "When we gathered his belongings, we found these."

Eve watched as Dr. Martin pulled out a giant folder, thick and heavy. She placed it on the floor and pulled out the contents. Large sheets of drawing paper with intricate charcoal drawings emerged. Most of them were of Pokemon. Marrils by a stream. Bulbasaurs in a garden. Oh yes, these were his. She would recognize his style anywhere.

She flipped through a few more and a face appeared. A beautiful woman's face, drawn down to the just below the shoulders. She was looking behind her shoulders, and had a look of sadness in her eyes, but also a soft beauty to them. He had added no color. Just the beauty of this woman.

Then her blood ran cold. She knew that face.

"M-misty..." she whispered, as realization hit her. The drawing was of Misty. As curiosity built up within her, she shuffled through the rest. Pictures after picture depicted her, some more obviously her than others. Bathing in a stream, the water coming to just below the small of her back, showing off her curves. The side of her face was beautiful and serious, almost forlorn.

"Is that Brock Harrison's wife?" Dr. Martin asked, and Eve slowly shook her head. These drawings, they were gorgeous, detailed. Was he in love with her? Is that...is that why he left and never came back?

"I don't mean to cause you any pain, Miss Castillo," The doctor said, but Eve's ears were ringing and she felt dizzy. She already knew what he was going to say. "It seems that he was in love with her. It seems he was going to ask her to marry him, but never did..."

He pulled out a felt box and Eve snatched it up, opening it. A beautiful, shiny diamond ring shined bright against the black velvet. She noticed an engraving, and Misty's name etched into the silver.

"My love. My life. My heart. Forever." She read it, barely even moving her lips as she did so. Tears stung the back of her eyes. "He loved her."

"We think he's headed to Pewter City," Dr. Martin said, as Eve turned her attention back to the drawings. One drawing dipicted Misty, her eyes welled up with tears. Another was one of her and himself sprawled out on the beach, in a passionate pose. That one...that one was too much.

Tears betrayed her emotions then.

"Eve, I know this is hard for you," He said, offering his hand. She took it only because she needed to have contact with another human being. "But we know you have your daughter there, and we believe he's headed there not only for Misty, but for Holly as well."

She looked up at him, not quite understanding.

The doctor spoke again without her prompting him. "And we believe him to be dangerous."

...

Fiona and Holly curled up under a large quilt. Misty had noticed that autumn was making itself known tonight, the temperature had dropped drastically from the day time, but it wasn't unusual for this time of year for the weather to do that.

She put in the movie "Frozen" and pressed play, then headed into the kitchen to scoop out two bowls of ice cream for them. Brock had gone upstairs and started the Jacuzzi for her, and she couldn't wait to sink down in the warm bubbles with him, and let his hands work their magic on her sore muscles.

She gave them their ice cream and two spoons. "Are you sure you girls want to sleep down here tonight?" She asked.

Fiona took a spoon full of ice cream into her mouth and nodded. "Yea, we want to watch Frozen!"

Misty kissed the top of their heads, and smiled down at Holly. She hoped the little girl wouldn't get homesick, but she seemed to like it here.

"Alright," Misty said. "Your dad and I will be right upstairs if you need us for anything. That goes for you, too, Holly. We're here if you need anything at all."

"OK, Fiona's Mommy," Holly said, smiling back at her, then turning her attention back to the television screen. The horrors from earlier that evening had almost faded from their minds. After all, Brock had checked and nothing at all was there. Maybe it wasn't there at all.

Misty disappeared upstairs and met Brock walking out of the bathroom, flashing her a smile.

"I lit candles for you, and I got lots of bubbles and very warm water," he slipped her hands around her waist and kissed her neck. She melted into him, his touch feeling so good after the kind of day she had. Then she remembered what she had done just a few hours before.

She had retreived that condom -carefully- from the trashcan and put it in a plastic baggy, then stashing it beneath the bathroom sink. She felt so guilty for doing it, she should have known it wasn't Brock's without having to get it tested, but she just couldn't help it. She had to know. His womanizing past, even though he had been a teenage boy, made her feel uneasy.

Misty stripped herself of her clothes and Brock did the same, sinking into the tub first and then smiling at her, inviting her with a quick curling of his fingers, in a suggestive manner that sent a quiver through her body.

She sank down into the bubbles, and he held her in his arms, rubbing her shoulders gently and releasing the tension from her body.

"How are the girls?" He asked.

"Watching a movie and eating ice cream," she replied, tiredly. She hadn't been sleeping well, and it was now that she realized because she was uneasy. She wasn't uneasy right now, in fact, right now she wanted nothing more than to just close her eyes and let Brock rub her shoulders, kiss her neck and whisper in her ear.

His warm breath tickled her ear and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"You want to make that baby now?" He asked, and she opened her eyes, and looked back at him.

"With the way we are, we probably already have another one," she giggled, sitting up on her knees, her breasts no longer concealed by the bubbles. There, he made love to her, and only afterwards would they notice the floor was soaked.

...

The ice cream bowls were empty, and as the movie came to a close, Fiona was already falling asleep, but Holly was wide awake. She felt a little homesick, even though she loved Fiona's parents. Brock was funny and protective. Misty was sweet and caring. She wished she could have Fiona's parents as her own. She clicked the TV remote and restarted the movie, just for company. She lowered the volume just a tad, and snuggled back down in her blankets she shared with Fiona.

Ten minutes into the movie, Holly really started to feel uneasy. The kitchen, that was so full of life just a few hours ago, was now pitch black. The staircase that led upstairs to Fiona's room was dark and only lit by the light from the television screen. She wanted to run upstairs and ask Fiona's dad to give her another ride on his shoulders, but she didn't.

She just stayed on the couch and watched Frozen again, which she didn't mind. She looked over at Fiona, whose eyes were closed and her breathing was steady. She was asleep, clutching onto a charmander doll. Then she heard a creak in the hallway upstairs. It was faint, but she had heard it. She reached over for the remote and turned down the volume, listening again. Shuffling footsteps were what followed, and she felt the loneliness she was feeling melt away.

Maybe it was Fiona's dad. She liked him, and she often wondered if her own dad was like he was. She lay there and imagined it. Funny and strong, except he would look more like her and less like Fiona. Then she heard footsteps on the staircase, and she knew someone was definitely awake.

Holly peeked out over the couch, her eyes scanning the staircase. She saw a pair of legs, and then a body that wasn't as lean as Brock's had been, and the skin on the arms was pale, not dark like Brock's was. A face appeared then, milky white and thin. Deep bags were under the green eyes and a grin was plastered across his face.

It wasn't the kind of grin Brock had. It was a grin that made Holly very uncomfortable. The appearance of this man made her frozen in place with fear. His grin grew wider as he stepped off the last step, and his fingers reached out to her, like bony skeletal talons, looking to rip the very life from her. Her voice was stuck in her throat, but she managed to slap Fiona very harshly on the shoulder, bolting her form her sleep.

Fiona's eyes opened and as they adjusted to the blue light from the television, she took in the image of the man leering at them from over the couch. A scream so loud it nearly shattered the windows erupted from her mouth, and she even hurt her own ears, but did not care. The man froze, looked towards the staircase and dove away somewhere in the darkness.

Immediately, Brock came running down the staircase, wearing a flimsy tank top and boxers. Misty followed behind him in a pink, silk nightgrown and flipped on the light. The two lamps in the living room came to life, and Holly's fear let go of the grip it had on her. Without thinking about it, she ran to Brock and started crying. Fiona ran to her mother, sobbing into her shoulder.

"What happened?" Misty asked, comfortingly stroking Fiona's hair.

"A monster," Fiona said, looking off into the dark hallway that led to their basement. Eevee stayed curled up on the couch, taking her spot where Fiona had been laying.

"I thought I chased all the monsters away," Brock said, exchanging a glance with MIsty.

"This one was different," Holly said, looking up at Brock with tear-filled eyes. "He was a man. He tried to grab us."

"He tried to grab you?" Brock looked at the two of them. "Where did the monster go?"

Fiona and Holly both pointed towards the basement, and Brock stood to his feet. He grabbed his old metal baseball bat he had since he was a teenager. It was pretty old, but it could still knock someone out cold if he needed to use it.

"I'm going to check the basement," Brock said, opening the door that led down the steep steps. He flicked on the lightbulb and a yellow, naked bulb lit the downstairs. He really had to find the time to finish this basement. Right now, it was used for storage. There was nothing down here but Halloween and Christmas decorations, a few car parts, and some fishing gear.

Misty stood at the top of the stairs, watching him go down.

"Honey, be careful," she said, nervously, keeping the girls behind her. Brock got to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her, winking.

"I got it, baby," he gave her his always so charming smile. "Go back to the living room, sit with the girls, calm them down. I'll be fine."

Misty reluctantly took the girls back to the living room, knowing that if someone was down there, the safer place for them to be was away from the basement door, but she couldn't help but think her husband was down there, by himself with a possible intruder in the house.

Her mind went back to the condom on the bathroom floor. If someone was in the house, maybe...maybe that condom wasn't Brock's. But that was silly. Of course it wasn't Brock's.

She felt a shudder grip her shoulders. Maybe there was an intruder in the house, then, and maybe this wasn't his first time being in here. Either scenario made Misty feel sick to her stomach.

Brock grabbed a flashlight just in case, and around the water heater, there was no light that reached, so he flicked it on. A few spare tires, a garden hose, and the christmas tree were all in one corner. He grabbed the rubber around the bats handle and moved the Christmas tree, preparing to strike at any time.

No one was there.

"You think it's funny to scare little girls, do ya?" Brock asked, raising his voice and the bat at the same time. "Why don't you come out and fight a man? Or are you too scared?" He was mostly doing this just as a precaution. He highly doubted someone was in the house. Pewter City had a low crime rate, and he had always locked his doors, even during the daytime.

He checked every corner of the basement, even the grimy, disgusting parts that he made a mental note to come down here and clean up. This place would make a great playroom for Fiona and her friends. He felt satisfied that their screams and fright were due to no more than nightmares, perhaps from little girls telling eachother ghost stories before going to sleep.

Misty felt relief when she saw him come back up from the basement and placed his baseball bat back in the closet.

"All clear," he announced, and Holly and Fiona could hardly believe it. They saw him! He went right into the basement...didn't he?

Misty smiled down at them. "See? Nothing to be afraid of. You just had a bad dream."

Brock kissed the top of Fiona's head, then Holly's.

"Go to sleep, guys. You have school in the morning," Brock reminded them, and they uneasily settled back down on the couch. Holly and Fiona watched them descend the stairs together and Fiona pulled Eevee close to her.

The two of them eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

...

Misty felt guilty as she dropped Fiona off at school. Wrapped up in a plastic baggy, she had shoved it into her purse, feeling quite disgusted and drove across town to a paternity testing facility. The building was large, and white, with glass windows from the top of the building to the rose bushes at the bottom.

She got out of her car and walked into the building, to the main entrance. An older, plump woman with cat-eye glasses and short black hair that was turning grey greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, Miss. Can I..." She stopped, recognizing Misty. "Mrs. Harrison?"

"Y-yes," Misty answered, knowing she would have to identify herself anyway. "Hello." She hated that her husband's family owned almost the whole city, though she had grown up with her family owning most of Cerulean City. This was one place she didn't want to be recognized.

"You're Brock's wife, right?" The woman asked. "Oh lord," she put her hands to her mouth, her nails painted with bright red polish. "Don't tell me that adorable little girl you have isn't his?"

"She's his. Fiona is definitely Brock's child," Misty interrupted her, opening her purse. "I'm actually here to get this tested."

The woman looked at the baggy and realized what was inside. "Good heavens..."

"It's a long story," Misty said, reaching into her purse once again. She pulled out another plastic baggy with a brush in it, a brush Brock used every single day and left on the bathroom sink.

"I want to know if the DNA on his brush matches the DNA in...that..." she said, gesturing towards the condom.

"Well," the woman said, eyeing the two specimens. "It would be better to get a mouth swab, but if this is a secret," the woman's eyes begged Misty to fork over the juicy details. Misty sighed.

"I found this condom on the bathroom floor, and I want to know if my husband used it with some other woman," Misty finally said, blushing as red as her hair and just wanting to get out of there.

"Oh, I see," The woman said, her smile faltering. "That will be 80 dollars."

Misty pulled out her wallet and handed over her debit card.

"Thank you." The woman said, running the card and handing it back to her.

"Can you...also tell if the DNA from the condom is from the father of the DNA on the brush?" Misty asked, as the woman packed up the specimens for testing.

"Yes, that's the same as a paternity test," she said, smiling. "It will be an extra 10 for that."

Misty twisted her mouth in contemplation and handed over her card again. She felt so stupid. The condom wasn't Brock's. He had told her that. They had fought about it. He had made love to her to reassure her of that. But it could have been Flint's. And if it was Flint's it would give her peace of mind.

But what her mother had said had cast her mind into a world of worry.

"We'll have results in three to five days," The woman finally said, coming back with a receipt. "I...suppose if this is a secret, you won't want this mailed out to you."

"Right," Misty nodded her head. "I'll come back and get the results myself." She thanked the woman and walked back to her car, feeling her nerves on end. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the results now. She didn't want to know if her husband was cheating on her.

...

Another match won. The trainer from Pallet town -who reminded him so much of Ash- walked out, cradling his Charmander and heading towards the Pokemon Center. Brock checked his watch. Yep. That was his last match scheduled for the next two hours.

Rose had been held up in the office all day long, and it was almost noon. Outside the sun was beating down on the grass, but the chill of fall was in the air. Brock liked that weather though, but today, he wasn't feeling his usual love for the autumn air.

He had to do it, though. He peeked her head into the office and saw Rose counting the money, filing it away. He could almost forget about the scene he had seen yesterday morning of his father and mother-in-law in the throws of their passion and lust. It looked so normal in here now.

However, his tone wasn't very friendly and Rose couldn't help but notice.

"I'm going over to see Mom for a bit," he said. "Keep the place locked up until I get back."

"Alright, Darling," she said, putting a wad of cash away. "Brock," she said, before he turned away, he stopped and turned around. "I'm curious why you are letting me stay around and keep my job here. My daughter clearly wants me gone. She hasn't said so much as boo to me since...yesterday's incident."

Brock sighed and walked over to her. "Rose, I was raised by the most generous, caring and loving mother that a kid could ever ask for. Even though what you did will hurt her, I know she would want me to do the right thing and help someone who is in need. You are in my house and my gym by nothing but my good graces. I'm giving you an opportunity to get your life on track," he said, his dark eyes sparkling.

Rose almost got lost in him. He looked so much like Flint, when Flint was his age, but he was a different man. Clearly a product of the woman who raised him. Rose felt incredibly guilty.

"I'm helping you because I love your daughter, and she may not realize it right now, but she does love you, Rose. When you treat her the way you do, it hurts her, and that means she still wishes you would just love her," Then as if reading her mind, he spoke again. "And I am _nothing_ like my father."

...

 _1995_

 _Misty looked out the window as they passed through Viridian Forest. The trees were tall, dark, and seemed to hide the creepiest creatures in the depths. Like bugs. She really hated bugs. Lilly sat in the backseat on one of side of her, and Daisy on the other. She was always in the middle. Violet got special priveleges and got to sit in the front seat, switching to a radio station._

 _Her mother puffed on a cigarette, her long red nails reminded Misty of talons. She wasn't sure where they were going, but Violet had said it was some kind of big party that only gym leaders got to go to. It was summer time, and her skin burned on the leather of the seat as the sun beat down on the car._

 _They soon arrived in Viridian City, and the whole town was decorated in banners, lights, food vendors and gift shops. Rose parked the car right by a large van and ordered the girls out of the car, Misty waited until Lilly stumbled out and then she tumbled out after her onto the graveled driveway._

 _There were gym leaders from all over. A woman with long, shiny blue hair was holding the hand of a little girl with the same colored hair, wearing a gloom on her dress. A teenage boy with blond hair and strong muscles was showing some of the younger kids how to evolve a Pikachu into a Raichu._

 _Misty became increasingly interested in what the teenage boy was doing, and she ventured off on her own, joining the group of boys who were watching. A boy, who was a few years older than she was, was standing at the front, watching intensely as they Pikachu evolved._

 _"That's cool," Misty said, and the boy looked at her. He was tan, with slanted eyes and spikey hair. A graveler was on his shirt, a blue triangle shape behind it._

 _He smiled at her. "I'm Brock."_

 _"I-I'm Misty," she stuttered. She hadn't been around many boys before. She was only allowed to hang out with her sisters, but being around a boy made her nervous. His eyes fell on the horsea doll she had in her hands._

 _"You must be from the water gym," he said, grinning. "I'm from Pewter City. We train rock types. My dad says I'm first in line to take over the gym in a few years."_

 _"My pokemon would beat yours," Misty said, giggling._

 _"Not mine," Brock said, folding his arms across his chest. "Water types are dumb."_

 _Misty scowled at him. "No they aren't! Rock types are ugly...and dumb!"_

 _Brock gritted his teeth. "Hey little girl, you watch what you say about Rock types. Maybe you are just ugly and dumb!"_

 _A heat rose to her face with embarassment. "I bet you don't even have Pokemon!"_

 _"Do too!" Brock said, holding up a pokeball. "I just caught an Onix last month."_

 _"My Staryu would totally destroy that Onix," Misty said, reaching her Pokeball. Just then, Flint Harrison's voice rang out over the crowd._

 _"Brock!" He yelled, and Brock looked back. Flint was already approaching them, and Misty cowered when she saw sight of her mother._

 _"Here he is, Rose," Flint said, putting his large hand on Brock's shoulder. "This is my oldest, Brock. The future gym leader."_

 _Rose smiled down at him. "He's the spitting image of you, Flint." Her eyes sparkled at him as she took in his youthful, handsome features. "He's going to be a heartbreaker one of these days."_

 _Flint smiled and his eyes fell on Misty. "Who is this little cutie?"_

 _Rose's eyes fell on Misty. "Oh, that's my youngest Misty. She's not much of a trainer, but my little Violet is set to take over the gym anyway."_

 _Brock looked over at her, and was about to say something, until he saw the expression on her face. She looked saddened by her mother's comments, but kept quiet._

 _"Hey," Rose said. "Brock should battle Violet in the junior competition tonight. See if he can withstand a water Pokemon trainer. You know, you boys always have a weakness for the girls from Cerulean City."_

 _"It must be something in the water down here," Flint said, chuckling. He grabbed Brock's hand and led him off, leaving Misty alone. Her mother went off with them, and she saw Brock look back at her, clutching on his father's hand._

 _Misty made her way to the main area again, and watched the blond teenage boy and his newly evolved Raichu. He smiled at her._

 _"You lost little girl?" He had an accent like he was from New Jersey._

 _She looked up at him and then quicly shook her head, his large stature frightening her. She ran from him, remembering that man who had leered at her just a year ago that night. That night when her mother had beaten her so bad she had welts on her legs for days, and they stung like the dickens in the shower._

 _She made her way to the main arena, stopping by one of the vendors to get a funnel cake and a lemonade with the five dollars Violet had given her to make sure she had money to get something to eat if she got hungry. She didn't think she had enough to really cover it, because she knew six dollars was greater than five, but the man gave it to her anyway, claiming her to be one of the cutest little girls he had ever seen._

 _She sat down on the hard metal bleachers and started to eat, her eyes searching for the boy with the Graveler on his shirt. He had given her a strange feeling inside, a feeling that she liked, but didn't understand._

 _After she finished eating, she stood up, threw away her trash and stepped out in the crowd of people walking the street. The heat of the day or starting to get to her, and she had no idea where that boy went. She desparately wanted to cool down. Maybe she could find a nice shaded place and have staryu spray her with water. She had done that a lot of times at home on hot days._

 _She found a tent in the grass, located under a tree. It was one of the gym leader's tents, where they typically sold their cities souveneirs, like stones from Pewter city, or sea shells from Cerulean City, like the one her mother ran every year._

 _She noticed a Golem on the side of the tent and the rocks the surrounded it. This must have been the Pewter City tent, and an excitement rose within her when she wondered if that boy was inside. The tent was closed, but maybe he had come in here to cool off from the heat._

 _She opened the tent, and she froze. Her mother's feet were in the air, and she was moaning, very softly. The man who had dragged Brock off just a half an hour before was between her legs and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself._

 _Misty didn't know what was happening, but she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see a woman, with short, brown hair, curled at the ends around her shoulders. She looked from the scene in front of them, down to Misty and led her away._

 _"C'mon, Sweety, you don't need to see that," she pulled her away and walked her back over to the stands. "You must be Misty, correct?"_

 _Misty nodded, shyly._

 _"I'm Lola. I'm the wife to the leader of Pewter City. I saw you talking to my son, Brock, earlier," Lola sat down with her and Misty immediately felt safe with her, but she could see a sadness in the woman's eyes._

 _"How about we sit and watch the show together?" Lola asked, smiling and putting down a blanket. The blanket had all kinds of water Pokemon on it, and Misty liked that, so she decided to sit with the woman. "You know, I like water Pokemon, too. It's a Cerulean City girl thing." She winked down at Misty, and she immediately smiled._

 _"I wish you were my mommy," Misty clung to Lola's arm, watching as the first battle started. It was Brock versus Lola and everyone was anticipating to see if Pewter City's up and coming gym leader could actually knock Cerulean City back a few notches._

 _Lola put her arm around Misty. "I can't be your mommy, but I can be your friend."_

 _Misty smiled and watched the battle unfold._

 _..._

It felt strange to Brock, to walk into the house he had once grown up in. He had been a grown man for so long now, had a house he walked into every night of his own, to a wife and a child of his own, that now his childhood home felt foreign to him. He felt like he couldn't just plop down on the couch, or open the fridge and pop a couple of grapes out of the bag. He knew his mother wouldn't have minded, but it just wasn't his home anymore.

His mother exited the laundry room with a handful of folded white towels.

"Oh, Hey Honey," she said, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to just drop in without calling," Brock said, taking the stack of towels off his mother's hands and putting them into the linen closet. She still kept them in the same place.

"Oh, Sweety, don't worry about that," Lola pulled him into a hug and held him for just a little longer than one might deem normal. Then she pulled back and looked at him, smiling. "You get more and more handsome everytime I see you."

"Oh, c'mon, Mom, Stop it," he grinned, and then followed his mother into the kitchen where she put on a pot of water for tea. Brock sat down at the kitchen island. She asked him about the gym, and then when they ran out of small talk, Brock had to come clean about why he had come over, unannounced in the middle of his work day.

"Mom, listen," he said, wrapping his large hands around the warm coffee mug.

"I know why you are here," she said, taking a quick sip of her tea and straightening out the dark red placemats on the counter, as if to stall, just for a second. Brock stayed quiet, not sure how to respond. His mother's eyes lifted to meet his. The sadness that always clouded out the light in his mother's eyes was back, and Brock knew he didn't have to say anything. She knew. She knew what Flint had done to her.

"Honey, I've known he's been wanting to sleep with that woman for years," Lola finally said, and Brock felt a strange sense of relief. But why? Because his mother already knew and came to terms with it.

"H-how did you know?" He asked, his voice quivering, which it never did, except when he was really nervous.

"I've already caught them once. Long time ago," she said, remembering the day she had pulled Misty away. That woman had never cared where she had sex, or she had sex with, even if it was in front of her daughters. In a way, Lola knew it was a good thing Rose didn't stick around long after Misty was born, that's why Misty grew up to be such a great wife to her son, and mother to her granddaughter.

Brock sighed and grabbed his mother's hands. "I saw them together, in the gym. Yesterday..."

Lola nodded her head. "I know, Honey. But Flint and I are married, and marriage is forever. We have to forgive eachother's transgressions."

"Misty thought I was cheating on her," Brock said, wanting to steer the conversation in another direction. "She found a used condom in the bathroom, but we don't really know whose it is. We have a feeling it had something to do with Rose."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Lola didn't bother to disguise the disgust in her voice, she did cover up the curling of her nose with her coffee mug of warm tea, though.

"I wouldn't cheat on Misty, though," Brock said, and Lola smiled at him.

"Oh I know that," her voice was warm and soft, and Brock felt a comfort come over him. "I've seen the way you look at her. I've always wanted Flint to look at me that way. He never has. But you and Misty, you guys are the real deal. I knew it from the moment you guys were little that you would end up together somehow. I don't know, it was just a feeling."

Brock smiled and chuckled and Lola was reminded of Flint's handsome, charming smile that he had roped her in with. But with Brock, there was a kindness, a warmth, something Flint had always lacked.

"You better get back to the gym," she said, looking at the time.

"Oh, right," he checked his watch. "I got a match in about 15 minutes. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, Sweetheart," she kissed his cheek and straightened out his button up shirt.

 _Always look your best, no matter what disasters are happening in your life_ , he could hear his mother's words in his head as he kissed her on the cheek, and pulled her in for a hug. He gave the best hugs. Big, warm and bear-like, but Lola still felt like she was cradling her baby.

She watched him leave the front yard, and the first of the tears she had been holding back since she came through the door started to show. That facade she had held up in front of him for so many years cracked, then shattered into a million pieces. Her sobs could be heard throughout the entire, empty house.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was mid-September now, and even though Fiona protested, Brock had drained their pool and put away all the summer toys until next year. The air was getting considerably colder, and Brock was greatful for that. He never did like the heat too much, unless he was at the beach or in a pool.

He had spent the late afternoon deflating floats, while Rose lounged out on a chair by the pool. Her eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses, but Misty knew she was enjoying the view. Watching Brock work on the pool in a flimsy white tank top against his glistening dark skin.

"What is that dreadful smell?" Rose asked, and Brock raked leaves away from the now empty pool. He refrained from saying something smart like "Your upper lip" or "Did you remember to wipe?" But he didn't.

"Smells like something died," he said, also taking note of the stench. He didn't want Fiona to play around back here and find a dead Raticate or something. He knew that they would never hear the end of her crying, and Brock would have to make up some story about it just sleeping.

He propped the rake against the house and began searching for the source of the smell. It seemed to grow stronger when he approached the back of the house. He peeked around the bushes and what he saw made his stomach churn. It wasn't a Raticate, or any kind of other Pokemon. It was a human being.

Her eye sockets were crawling with maggots, and her decayed skin stretched tightly over the bone, giving her hands a gray, skeletal look. Her mouth was open and filled with maggots, but she seemed to be staring straight at him, screaming for help. He covered his nose, tried to keep from throwing up from the sight and the smell.

"Oh Jesus," he coughed, and gagged and got away from there, instictively holding his hand back to protect Rose from seeing what he just saw. "Rose, get inside the house. Make sure Misty and Fiona don't come out here. You girls don't need to see this."

He ran inside, and grabbed his cell phone from the counter. Misty was just preparing dinner and Fiona was coloring at the table in her Hello Kitty coloring book. He tried to submerge himself in the sight of it all. So happy, peaceful, clean, and alive. The complete opposite of what he had just seen.

When the police picked up the phone, he spoke nervously. "Yes, sir, this is Brock Harrison," Misty looked at him questioningly, but he went into the next room. Fiona watched curiously as her mother followed him. Fiona got up to investigate, but Rose stopped her, grabbing her shoulders and plopping her back down in the seat.

Fiona didn't protest her grandmother, she just sat in the chair, picked up the green crayon she was using and continued to color.

"There is a dead body in my backyard," Brock swallowed nervously, his mouth suddenly dry, and his entire body was trembling. Misty was surprised to see that his normally tan skin had lost almost all of its color.

Detective Roger Stone was on the phone. "A human dead body?"

"Yes," Brock could hardly believe what he was saying. Misty huddled close to him, and looked back into the kitchen, where her mother and Fiona were.

"How did you discover this dead body?" The man asked.

"I was cleaning up the yard. My mother-in-law and I noticed a really bad smell, and when I went to investigate it..." he trailed off, not needing to finish the rest. "She looks to be female. Badly decomposed. Probably has been dead for a few weeks."

"How long has she been in the yard, Mr. Harrison? Do you remember any strange smells prior to today?" Detective Stone asked, and Brock felt fear rise within him.

"I don't know," Brock said. "My kid plays in the backyard all the time, and she never..." The incident when her and Holly had described the monster outside the gate. It was almost two weeks ago, but maybe it was this dead girl, but he would have seen it. Wouldn't he?

"I honestly don't know," he said.

"I'll be over with some of my guys in a few minutes," Stone replied. "Did you touch the corpse?"

"No, Sir," Brock said.

"Good," Stone said, matter-of-factly. "Just stay inside, don't touch anything near the corpse. We don't want to contaminate any evidence, if there is a crime here. We're dispatching."

"Alright," Brock said, and hung up, immediately pulling his wife into his arms.

"A dead body?" Misty asked, the question had been dying to come out the entire time he was on the phone, but she kept her voice low enough to where Fiona wouldn't hear it.

Brock was surprised at how fast the detective and his men showed up. He bought 3 other men with him and asked Brock to lead him out to the backyard. There by the bushes, they found the girl, covered in maggots with her mouth frozen in a scream.

Misty stayed by the pool area and Brock held her in his arms, he could feel her trembling with fear.

"Looks like the girl has just been dropped here," Stone said, examining the grass beneath the body. "This grass has no blood or anything on it."

One of the officers shouted. "Hey, look at this," One of them pulled a small piece of paper out from between her bony, rotted fingers, that were cracked clear down the middle.

Detective stone unfolded the piece of paper and read the words, scrawled out in a red ink. "It's almost time for our second battle. -Kimberly Roberts."

"Kimberly Roberts?" Brock asked, he remember that name. He remembered she had lost a match to him, and she had a crush on him, and she was kind of cute, too. "She came into my gym about 2 weeks ago for a match."

It was hard to imagine her as the dead girl that lay in his backyard now.

They filled out a police report, and removed the corpse from the backyard, took a few pictures and then roped off the area.

"We're going to be collecting DNA samples off the corpse," Detective Stone said. "If we get a match from anyone in the area, we will let you know. Mr. Harrison, I am deeply sorry this happened to you and frightened your family."

Brock was still in shock, and Misty was crying, holding onto him as tight as she could. The police left, and with it, their blue and red lights did as well. None of them felt like dinner, except for Fiona, who still had no idea why her family as acting so strange all the sudden, or why she couldn't play outside before dinner.

Misty was surprised to see Brock take a shower almost immediately after dinner, he usually waited until just before bedtime, and he usually invited her in. He scrubbed his skin until it was red, but still felt like he couldn't get the stench of rotting flesh off of him. The image was burned into his mind, and fear gripped him, but he couldn't let anyone see that. Especially Misty or Fiona.

When he was scared, they knew something was very wrong.

After washing up Fiona for the night and putting her to bed, Misty found Brock sitting up in bed on his laptop. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he looked up from this screen, smiling at her.

"Hey Babe," he said as she crawled into bed next to him. He was reading things on the internet about crimes in Pewter City, and every source he came to said that the city had a low crime rate, compared to the huge city of Celadon, or even the more seedy parts of Cerulean City. In fact, it was ranked number 2 in the best city in Kanto to raise your children, only losing out to Pallet Town.

"I'm scared, Brock," Misty said, looking at the bright screen of the laptop, leaning her head on his chest. He smelled of shampoo and men's body wash, and she loved the scent of him.

"Aw, Honey," he said, closing the laptop screen and placing it back in the bedside table. "Don't be scared. It's alright. I'm right here and nothing is going to happen to us."

She kissed him and was soon lost in the scent of his skin, the taste of his tongue and the warmness of his lips. He had always had a way of taking her worries or fears away just by kissing her, making love to her as he had their first time in the guest bedroom at Ash's house.

...

Eve Castillo couldn't sleep.

She had tried, but by 1:30 A.M., after laying there for two hours, she got up and went down to the kitchen to prepare some tea and maybe read a newspaper or watch television. She tried to discourage this from Holly.

As she took her first sip of warm tea, and opened up her romance novel to chapter 18, and began reading the scene where Jack McCoy is begging Piper Segal to come back to him after he had been caught with his ex-girlfriend in a coffee shop, she pictured the way Brock would look, begging for her love. It was a place inside her head she would never reveal, only to herself, and it was her own little secret.

Then, her mind drifted away from the page and back to the drawings she saw in Celadon last night. He had always had a special talent for making his subjects look so alive, like you could feel their emotions. But why had he drawn Misty so sad?

Had he really laid in that hospital bed for years and drawn nothing but pictures of her? And did he really come to Pewter City to...to do what? Try and get her back? Eve swallowed the warm tea. Kill her? The thought disturbed her.

She looked out her window to the city lights below. Cars passed by each other on the street, and she could even see the top of Pewter Gym from her window. She wondered, sadly, as she looked at the specks of light coming out of the buildings, what Brock was doing. She pictured him wrapped up in the sheets, passionately making love to Misty, just like the picture of the two models on the front of her book.

Her jealousy raged. It raged so high and so hot, that she found herself hoping her ex-fiance was in Pewter City, and she found herself hoping he was here to kill her. The thought no longer disturbed her, instead, it wrapped a warm blanket of comfort around her.

...

 _May 2006_

 _Today was Misty's 16th birthday, and she hadn't announced the day or anything, but Brock surprised her with a cake and a present. Ash was just about to have his last battle on Cinnabar Island with Blaine, but for the day, they were relaxed on the beach._

 _There were tourists everywhere, but Misty hadn't minded it too much. Cerulean City also got a lot of tourists on it's beaches as well. She watched Brock and Ash playing volleyball against eachother, and she smiled, retreating back into that secret area in her mind, the area she told no one about and she allowed herself to indulge in Brock Harrison._

 _She had a crush on from the time she laid eyes on him when Ash had first challenged him at Pewter Gym. He just gave her butterflies, and a feeling she didn't quite understand yet. She had wanted to help Ash, but was secretly elated when he lost and had to go back and fight for the badge again._

 _"Dude!" Brock yelled out, diving for the ball. "That wasn't even in range!"_

 _Ash laughed, kicking sand towards him. Then, Brock's eyes fell on her, and Misty felt her heart thump in her chest._

 _"Hey, C'mon. I need you on my team," he said, and Misty pulled down her sunglasses, squinting against the sun._

 _"I'm really no good at volleyball," Misty said, shyly. Why had she suddenly felt so shy in front of Brock? I mean, sure he was cute, but she was suddenly very self-concious about how she looked in front of him. Was her hair OK? Did she look Ok in her bikini?_

 _"Bullshit," Brock said, grinning. "C'mon. Don't be such a scaredy cat."_

 _"Wouldn't the teams be uneven?" Misty asked, looking over at Ash, who looked like he was ready for anything._

 _"He wants to a two on one match," Brock said, getting a competitive air about him. "He has something to prove."_

 _Misty took her place behind Brock and served the ball, but it didn't quite make it over the net. Ash scoffed._

 _"That figures. You get a girl to play and she can't even serve," Ash rolled his eyes, and Brock waved him off._

 _"Ash, don't be such an asshole," he said, walking over to Misty. The sun shimmered off his bare torso and tight muscles. And he was coming over to her!_

 _"Here, let me show you how to serve," Brock said, placing the ball in her hand. "Hold it like this, and then," he moved behind her, pressed his muscled torso against her back, steadying her stance with his hands on the small of her back._

 _"Bring your arm back," Brock said, his voice a smooth, soft whisper in her ear. His warm breath tickled her ear and she shivered at his touch. The scent of his cologne and body wash made her head fuzzy. His closeness made something unfamiliar rise up inside of her._

 _"L-like this?" She stammered._

 _"Yea, that's good," Brock said, his hands went back on her hips. "Keep a good stance, arm straight out, and just hit it over the net."_

 _She nodded, feeling an ache between her thighs that she had never felt before. It stayed there long after he had went back over to his place. She served the ball correctly and Ash hit it back over. They played for another hour or so, before Brock finally grew tired and Ash decided it was time to eat._

 _Misty was almost certain her two male companions had forgotten about her birthday, but she should have known better. Brock had planned a dinner for her out on the beach, a long with a cake he got from the Cinnabar Bakery, with her name written in pink icing and an adorable Corsola and Horsea on the cake._

 _"Oh, you guys!" She exclaimed, smiling. "You didn't have to do all of this."_

 _"You only turn 16 once," Brock said, sitting down beside her. "I made your favorite bowtie pasta and sauteed vegetables. And we have gifts."_

 _"You guys got me gifts?" Misty asked, and Ash pulled out a gift bag._

 _"This is from me," Ash said, smiling. Not wanting to admit he had to get Brock to pick it out. He knew what she liked, what she wanted. Ash had no idea._

 _It was a short dress, that ended a few inches above the knee, in polka dot blue._

 _"Oh, Ash! This is so adorable!" She held it up to her. "Thank you!"_

 _Brock reached into his backpocket and pulled out a long velvet box. "This is from me."_

 _Misty opened it, and was shocked that Brock had bought her such a beautiful necklace. It had shimmer blue jewels in a heart shaped pendant._

 _"Oh my goodness, Brock..." she smiled up at him. "This is gorgeous! Where did you find this?"_

 _"Down at the shops," Brock said, shrugging. "I wasn't sure if you would like it, but I know you like blue and I know you like jewelry."_

 _"It's gorgeous!" She said. "Put it on!"_

 _She turned around and she felt his fingers brush her skin as he clasped it in the back, and the pendant rested between her breasts. He thought this would probably be the only time he would be allowed to look at her breasts and use the necklace as an excuse._

 _"How does it look?"_

 _"Their...I mean, it's perfect," he smiled, hoping she hadn't caught his mistake._

 _She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you."_

 _"Hey, you're welcome!" He said, resisting the urge to let his hands explore her more. She had grown to be a beautiful young woman in just the short year that he knew her, and he knew in that moment, he loved her, and he always would._

 _"Are we ever going to eat?" Ash asked, and Brock reluctantly let Misty go._

 _"Yea, yea, we're going to eat," Brock said, rolling his eyes, turning away from them quickly to hide his arousal. He had to tell Misty how he felt, and he had to do it soon._

 _..._

It was dark, so dark Misty couldn't see anything in front of her, but she felt Brock's arm around her. Something was pulling her from her sleep. A soft moaning sound, and her lips curled into a sleepy smile. Brock had been quite famous for waking up at 2 o'clock in the morning, kissing her neck until she woke up and making love to her before falling back asleep for the rest of the night.

She had even woken him up in the middle of the night for sex, and this was especially true when she was pregnant with Fiona. Her hormones had made her want it all the time, and Brock was certainly not objecting to it.

She was dreaming, but she knew she was dreaming, because she could control it. It was rare she found herself in that kind of control, so she relished in this dream. Brock had her laid out on the hood of his truck on a hot, summer afternoon. The garden hose had soaked her body and he was kissing her all over, lapping up the water as he went.

He was shirtless, in nothing but a pair of jeans and a thick black belt. He was sensual, and slow, and understood that she needed time before he could satisfy his burning desires with her. His moans of ecstacy became more intense as she reached out and pulled down his jeans, revealing his very hard arousal.

Brock smiled down at her as he watched kiss the tip of his firm erection. She closed her eyes and heard him moan again, brushing her hair back with his hand and enjoying the sensation of her warm lips and tongue.

"Misty, you're so beautiful," he whispered, breathlessly, as his moans of pleasure became faster. "Oh, yes! Oh, God, yes!"

She looked up at him, but what she saw made her freeze. It wasn't Brock's face she saw...this wasn't Brock. Suddenly, the world fell away, and she found herself being jerked awake by fear. The room was dark, but the bright red dot on their television at the foot of the bed cast shadows in the room, and as her senses came around, her heart slowed down, she head it.

Skin hitting skin, rapidly, and heavy breathing...moaning. The same moaning she heard in her dream.

Her eyes widened, and she saw a figure standing by the bed. Brock's heavy form lay next to her, her arm draped across her waist. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the figure standing at the end of the bed was certainly not Brock. It was...a man.

A man was in the house. And he was...Oh God!

He was pleasuring himself right in front of her! She screamed when realization hit her, and accidently pushed Brock in the floor. Her scream was so loud it seemed to reverberate off the walls. Brock pushed himself off the floor and squinted against the light that Misty had turned on by their bed.

"Honey, what's the matter?" He asked, and Rose immediately came rushing in. It was only then that Brock realized he was still naked.

"What's going on?" Rose asked.

"There...there was a man..." Misty said, pulling the quilt around her. She had just realized she was also naked, having fallen asleep right after having sex.

"A man?" Brock looked around the room. "What man?"

"He was...standing...right..." she looked around, the room was empty. "He was right by the bed."

Brock slipped on the pair of boxers he discarded the night before, rubbed his eyes and looked around. "Honey, I don't see anyone."

Rose sighed. "Misty, honey, I think you just had a bad dream, considering what happened earlier tonight, I'm surprised we all haven't had nightmares."

Brock took her into her arms and rubbed the back of her head. "Babe, it's OK. It's alright. It was just a dream. That's all it was."

She cried into his chest and looked behind her, her eyes finally adjusting to the light in the room. "Brock, I know I saw someone. I was awake...I was dreaming..." she trailed off, looking over at her mother, then back at her husband. "I was dreaming about something, and then I woke up, and I saw him...he had his dick out and everything and he was...watching me sleep."

Brock tried to ignore the fact that Rose had seen him naked for the second time since she had been here, and knew he had to make his wife feel better. "Alright, I'll take a look around, OK? I'll check everywhere. Call the police, have them search the area." He directed at Rose, who immediately dialed the police's number on Brock's phone.

Meanwhile, Brock went over to their closet, opened it, moved the clothes around, even Misty's wedding dress, that had been his mother's, but nothing. He was quietly looking in Fiona's room by the time police had arrived. He had mostly done this for Misty's peace of mind.

The police searched the closets over again, the bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room, and the basement, which even creeped out some of the officers.

Misty had calmed down considerably by the time they finished the search and found nothing. Now, she was convinced it must have just been a dream.

"We didn't find anything," they said. "So we can't file a report, but what we can do is we can patrol the area for a couple days, make sure no one leaves or enters your home. Weren't you the same people who called earlier?"

Brock nodded. "Yes, we...found the body in our back yard. I think we're all just kind of shaken up by it." He knew he definitely was.

"Well, that's understandable," one of the officers said, then offered a smile at Misty. "Just calm down, Mrs. Harrison. Your home is safe."

Misty nodded, silently, and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, trying to quell the anxiety inside of her.

After the police left, Rose returned to her room and Fiona had woken up when the police arrived. Naturally, she took this opportunity to seek comfort with them, and snuggled with Eevee in between them.

Neither of them objected, and Misty held her close, grateful she was safe.

As the three of them settled back in bed, Brock felt sleep overtake him again pretty quickly, but Misty was left awake. Fiona stirred beside her and as Misty's eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see Fiona looking right at her.

"Mommy?" She asked in a whisper, as not to wake her father back up.

"Yes, honey?" She asked, rubbing her back gently, soothingly.

"I told you I saw someone in the house..." Fiona whispered, and Misty felt a chill crawl up her spine. Her dream was too real. The sensations the sound, and the face. The face of the man who had replaced Brock's in her dream.

She knew that face too well, and it chilled her to her very core.

The face she had seen both in her dream and in the dark. She recognized that face. It had haunted her dreams for years now. The chin-length dark hair, the green eyes, the pudgy nose.

But how could she have seen him in her bedroom? He was dead. She had shot him dead in Delia Ketchum's kitchen five years ago. She watched him die. She watched him trying to kill Brock on the kitchen floor, she watched him shoot Gary Oak, nearly killing him, she watched him threaten Ash.

She watched him die.

But she knew the face she saw.

It was the face of Tracey Sketchit.

...

The next morning, Misty walked Fiona into the school building. Eve's classroom was buzzing with noise among the colorful carpet and tiny desks. The laughter of children filled the air, and last night's events seemed to be an entire world away right now.

"Here is your lunch, Fiona," she said, handing Fiona her Charmander lunch box and helping her put her coat away on the jacket rack at the front of the classroom. Unlike the most recent days at school, Fiona clung to Misty as she did on her first day of preschool.

"Mommy, I don't want you to leave," she said, looking up at her. Misty smiled at her warmly, and knelt down until she was eye level with her daughter.

"Honey, I have to go. You would much rather be here with Holly than at the grocery store with me, or at the Gym with daddy, wouldn't you?" Misty asked, and Fiona just shook her head.

"I'm scared that the man is going to find me," Fiona said, and Misty's expression softened and she pulled her in for a hug.

"Oh, honey, nothing happened last night. I just had a really bad dream. Just like sometimes you have bad dreams," she smiled and kissed her forehead, wishing she could believe her own story. "Now, go on and play. Draw a picture today and me and daddy will hang it on the fridge when you get home this afternoon."

"OK," Fiona said, reluctantly. She hugged her mother one more time and then parted from her, going straight towards Holly who was finger painting at one of the easels. Misty stood up and noticed Eve was watching her.

"I'm not really sure what's gotten into her," Misty said, smiling. "I thought she was alright with being at school during he day."

"Mrs. Harrison, can I talk to you for a moment? Maybe we can step across the hall to the library. I can get us a couple cups of coffee if you like." Eve said, motioning over to one of the student teachers in the next room to keep an eye on her class while she was gone. Misty agreed, and once the replacement teacher was in the room, she stepped out, closed the door and led Misty across the hall to the library. Eve walked into the lounge just off to the side and came back with two cups of coffee.

It was a small room, filled with typical books preschoolers would read. Green Eggs and Ham. The Cat in The Hat. Horton Hears a Hoo. It was empty, except for the librarian who sat at the desk and was reading a book that was clearly from the public library, rather than this one.

"Is everything alright with Fiona?" Misty asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Harrison," she said.

"Please call me, Misty," she smiled at her, and Eve smiled back, though her jealousy had skyrocketed. Misty was pretty and kind, and had been nothing but nice to her. She suddenly felt bad for wishing any ill-will against her.

"Misty, this is about something else...something outside of school," Eve looked around, unsure if the librarian was trying to listen in. She probably wasn't. She looked too wrapped up in her book, and probably figured she was just having a conversation with a parent whose child was misbehaved or not progressing like the others.

"Fiona is far above most of my students. She's already reading on her own, and can write her full name, so this isn't about her," Eve said, taking a sip of coffee. "This is about you, and...this is going to sound so bizarre, but I was once engaged. I was engaged to a man named Tracey Sketchit."

Misty's eyes widened. "Y-y-you knew Tracey?" She felt the room spin, the floor drop from under her.

"I was with him for about a year. We lived on Valencia Island about 5 years ago," Eve told her. "When I found out I was pregnant with Holly, he left me. I found out from some mutual friends that he was seeing someone else shortly after that."

Misty opened her mouth to say something, but found no words. It was her.

"Only recently did I find out that the woman he was seeing was you," Eve's eyes locked on Misty's.

"I-I don't know what to say, Eve," Misty said. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he had left you or that you were pregnant at the time."

"I know," Eve said, offering her the best smile she could manage. "You would have no way of knowing that. But I'm afraid that there is more to this story..."

Misty sipped her coffee. The bitter taste of it didn't even phase her as she waited for Eve to continue.

"I know about the attack, how he had forced himself on you in the Xanadu Nursery in Pallet Town because he was jealous of your feelings for Brock," Eve said, noting to herself that it was the same kind of jealousy she felt towards Misty about Brock's feelings for her.

Misty shuddered, her mind snapping back to those events.

"I also know that you shot and killed him that day, but the truth is," Eve paused for a moment. "You didn't kill anyone, Misty. You just shot him and he was pronounced dead, but there is a doctor Martin who has been rehabilitating Tracey from his injuries for the last five years in Celadon City, and just recently...Tracey had escaped the hospital in Celadon."

"He...he didn't die?" Misty asked, feeling a mixture of relief, knowing that all these years of carrying the burden around of taking someone's life was lifted, but also of fear, knowing that he was on the loose. Suddenly, last's nights events didn't seem so far away.

"He didn't die," Eve repeated. "Dr. Martin thinks he's in Pewter City and he's looking for you."

Misty's mouth felt like cotton had been crammed in it. "What?"

"Tracey drew hundreds if not thousands of pictures of you while he was in the hospital," Eve said. "He was in love with you. And he couldn't stand the fact that you didn't return his feelings, and that you were in love with Brock. He's believed to be very dangerous."

Misty's eyes flooded with tears, but she did not make a sound. "He was in my house last night." Her voice was barely audible, but Eve had heard her.

"He was...in your house?" She asked, and Misty nodded.

"I called the police and they looked around, but found nothing," she said, looking down at the light brown of her coffee. "I mean, they checked every square inch." Her mind went back to what Brock had discovered in the yard.

"Oh God, and the body...There was a dead body of a young girl in our backyard that Brock found last night. We reported that to the police as well," she was frozen with fear. "Do you think Tracey did that too?"

"Misty, you need to just stay calm...install an alarm system in your house and make sure no one is in the house before you lock your doors at night. The police in Pewter City have already been notified of his possible whereabouts," Eve said, trying to calm her down. She may not have liked Misty, because of her crush on Brock, but she sympathized with her. They were both mothers, and they both had daughters they were trying to protect.

As Misty left the school building, Pewter City had taken on a different kind of air. An eerie, gray, creepy vibe had seemed to blanket the city. To make matters worse, it had started to rain.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

By Friday afternoon an alarm system was installed in the house. Brock didn't care how much it had cost him, it gave him piece of mind, knowing that no one could get into his house without the police being immediately notified, and everyone in the household waking up.

"Alright, code set," Brock said. "No one is getting in this house without the whole police force knowing about it."

Misty looked at the black box with the touch pad mounted by the door. It had made her feel only slightly better, but when Brock emerged from the kitchen with a sandwhich and a can of soda, she knew he was off again.

"I've got another match at 2 o'clock. In fact, I'm booked all day until 7 o'clock, but I should be home for dinner," he kissed her, breifly, before checking the time. It was past one thirty.

"Bye Honey," she said, feeling the house grow colder. The red blinking light on the security pad didn't make her feel any better now that Brock was gone.

Suddenly, a sharp sound emitted from her cell phone, permeating the silence of the house. Her heart was pouding, but slowed down when she realized it was only her phone. She picked it up.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Mrs. Harrison?" The woman on the other end asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, this is her," she said, looking at the clock. She had to leave to pick up Fiona really soon.

"Hi, this is Judy Oliver with the DNA testing lab. We just wanted to inform you that the results on your samples are in," her voice sounded so robotic, so cold, so official. Misty felt a queasiness grip her stomach. She had almost forgotten about that. With the recent events that had went on in the past couple of days, it had completely slipped her mind.

"Oh, thank you," Misty said. "I'll be by to pick them up." She said, and hung up the phone.

As she put on a jacket and slipped on her shoes, she suddenly wasn't so sure if she wanted to stop by the facility and pick up her test results. Sure, it would be almost one hundred dollars wasted, but she didn't really care about that. If the test results matched, and it was Brock...she wasn't sure she could handle that.

She waited in line among the other parents, and was relieved to see that Fiona wasn't crying, despite her being almost 6 minutes late from picking her up. Instead, she was playing a memory game with Holly.

Misty tapped her daughter on the shoulder, and Fiona turned around, smiling. "Mommy!"

"Hey, Sweety!" She cheerfully greeted her. "I'm sorry I'm late. Are you having fun?"

"We were just playing a game," Fiona said. "Holly said when she can spend the night again, she will bring it over and we can play there. Can she spend the night, Mommy?"

Eve's voice sounded before Misty could even form a thought.

"Holly can't spend the night for a while, Honey," she told Fiona, and the two little girls looked equally sad.

"But Mommy!" Holly said, getting to her feet. "Fiona's daddy gives air plane rides and he's funny. And we got to watch Frozen!"

"I know," Eve said. "I promise you can spend the night soon, but not right now." She looked over at Misty and it was almost as if she could read Misty's mind.

"I understand," Misty said, nodding her head. "If Tracey is after us..."

"I don't want Holly in any danger," Eve spoke with a cold tone. "As soon as they catch him, the girls can hang out again."

She nodded her head and grabbed Fiona's hand, leading her out of the school building.

"Why can't Holly spend the night Mommy?" Fiona asked, as Misty buckled her in the backseat.

"Because her mommy doesn't want her to right now. She wants her home with her, just like I want you home with me," she smiled back at her. "Now, listen, we're going to go run an errand, and then after, I'll buy you an ice cream and we can make dinner together."

"OK!" Fiona said, just focusing on the ice cream treat her mother promised her. Misty turned on the radio, singing along to a pop song, and lulling Fiona to sleep with it. No matter what she sang, Fiona would always go to sleep at the sound of her voice. It was a long drive, and when they arrived at the testing center, Misty almost thought about just turning back towards the house and forgetting it.

But she was here now, and curiosity compelled her to get out of the car, pick Fiona up, and walk into the building. Fiona woke up once she felt herself being slung over her mother's shoulder and carried down a hallway.

Misty put Fiona down in a chair and walked up to the desk. The same older woman who was there just a few days ago was there again today, and she smiled at Misty.

"Mrs. Harrison!" She said, sounding delighted. "How are you dear?"

"I'm doing great," she said, not sure how much about their lives had been broadcast all over the city.

"Good, good," the woman said. "You are here to pick up your samples?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she said, looking back to see Fiona was playing a game on the tablet she pulled out Misty's purse.

"Just a moment," she said, retreating the back and reappearing a few minutes later with a sealed envelope. "Good luck, Mrs. Harrison."

Misty just nodded and she took the envelope from the woman with shaky hands. She settled down next to Fiona, who didn't look away from the screen of the tablet, and she ripped open the envelope with a slow, precise rip. She could still turn away. She could still just walk out with the envelope and toss it in the trash can, and if it was Brock's DNA that matched the condom, she would never know and she could continue to be happy.

Ignorance is bliss, right?

No, this would drive her crazy to never know.

She built up the nerve and tear the envelope open, unfolding the piece of paper and looking at the results.

The results were negative. Not only that, they weren't even a close match. The only thing determined by the two DNA samples given is that it was both human, and both male. No paternity matched. It wasn't Flint's.

Then, dread washed over her.

 _Tracey_.

The name flashed through her mind and she shuddered. The thought of him touching himself, pleasing himself, as he watched her sleep made her cringe with disgust.

She put the paper in her purse and grabbed Fiona's hand, trying not to let her daughter see the utter terror that she knew was etched on her face.

...

It was almost midnight by the time Fiona had gotten to bed, and Brock hadn't minded. It was a Friday night, and he had no work tomorrow, but he had been dying to spend some alone time with his wife. Misty had been acting strange though for the past couple of days. Brock knew it was the fear and stress that the past couple of days had caused her, from finding that girl's body in the backyard to her horrible nightmare a few nights ago, the last thing she probably felt like doing was having sex.

But Brock never gave up on it. The farthest he had gotten in the past three days was just making out with her, and he felt like that 18 year old guy he was on the beach that night when he had first let Misty knew how he had felt. She had denied him, telling him she just didn't want to tonight. So, he decided he would give her some time, and he settled for wrapping his arm around her and holding her close to him, though that did nothing but make his desire stronger.

Night time was usually their favorite time. When the house was quiet, Fiona was asleep. The two of them would crawl into bed together, talk, and laugh about the most random things, and then their laughter would turn into kissing, and then very passionate sex.

Tonight it was even more heated than the night before. She crawled into bed next to him, wearing just a silk top and the matching bottom shorts, and Brock knew immediately he had to have her tonight. She wanted him too. She wanted him just as bad, if not worse. After all, it had been four days since they had done anything besides make out like a couple of teenagers, and she desparately wanted to feel him inside of her, his heart pounding against his chest so hard she could feel it on her own.

She felt him tug at her silk shorts, pulling them down to her knees in one swift yank. That's when she pulled away from his kiss and looked at him, then immediately pulled them back up.

"Honey..." she said, her eyes darting around the room, towards the closet, then the bathroom.

Brock groaned in frustration. "Oh, c'mon, Baby," he capturd her lips in another kiss, and after several heated seconds she pulled away.

"Brock, I-I can't..." she said, her hand automatically traveling to his very stiff erection. His body spasmed at her touch, and his desire to have her only grew stronger.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" He asked, hoping his sexual frustration wasn't coming across as aggressive. "It's been four days and I have been practically begging for sex. I've never had to do that before," he said, with a smile, "Four days is a long time for us. So what's bothering you?"

Misty let her hand trail from his erection to his abs, and she traced the outside of them with her fingers under the quilt. Just that touch was enough to make him lose control, but he was trying not to focus on his need for release right now.

"Is it your mother?" He asked, as he settled down in his pillow. Misty faced him, laying close to him. She shook her head.

"No. It's not my mother," she said, then she decided that she would take a chance on Brock getting mad at her, for her lack of trust, because she had to tell him what she found out from the DNA test and from Eve Castillo.

"Is it me?" He asked, in the middle of her contemplation. Her expression changed from worried to apologetic.

"Oh, Brock, of course not," she said, kissing him passionately on the lips, parting her lips so he could slip his tongue inside her mouth. It was another several seconds before they parted, and Brock could see it in her eyes that she was turned on, that she had wanted him just as bad as he wanted her.

"I love you," she said, smiling at him. "I've always loved you. You are the sexiest man in the world to me. It's just..." she sighed. "Ok, don't get mad. But do you remember the condom I told you I found in the bathroom?"

"Yea?" He asked, the hand he had rubbing small circles on her hip and squeezing her rear had stopped moving.

"Well, I had it tested..." she said, blushing. "I...I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I just...wanted to know who it could have belonged to."

Brock sighed. "Misty, I told you it wasn't mine. You shouldn't have needed a DNA test to tell you that, Honey. I would never cheat on you!" His voice was raised in affliction, just a bit. Brock never raised his voice really, he just added a note of annoyance to it, to portray his anger.

"I know, Brock. I'm sorry, I feel so bad for having it done, or even thinking about having it done," tears finally spilled out of her eyes, and the hurt and anger Brock had felt just a moment ago melted away and he wrapped his arm around her, letting her cry into his chest.

"Hey, look, it's OK," he said softly. "But honey, you should have told me you wanted to get something like that done. I would have agreed to it, even if it was just to prove my innocence, which you should already know."

"I know," she said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. She saw the smile come to his face, and she instantly felt better.

"Now don't cry," Brock whispered softly, kissing her tear-soaked cheeks. "Is that what's been bothering you? That you felt like I would be mad at you for getting that condom tested to see if it really wasn't mine?"

Misty nodded, but Brock knew she had more to add to it.

"So, did you get the results?" He asked, and Misty's eyes flashed with something. Fear. Brock recognized the look as fear.

She nodded her head, and her voice was a soft whisper, as if she didn't want anyone else in the world to hear it but him.

"The results weren't even a close match to you," she said, and instead of the relief he was expecting to see on her face, she still looked frightened. Misty had even thought that the results matching Brock would have been better than not matching, with the recent events happening.

"See?" He said. "Innocent."

"Brock, if they didn't match you, then who was it? It wasn't your father..." she said, and Brock suddenly understood her fear.

"It was...someone was in our house," his normally, strong, deep voice, sounded so weak as realization hit him.

"I'm so scared, Brock," she said, looking around the room, the lights did nothing to comfort her. Her own home had suddenly become a nightmarish place for her.

"Hey, honey, it' OK," he said, kissing her forehead, comfortingly. "I've checked every corner of this house and there is no one here but us...and your mother."

"There's also something I haven't told you..." she trailed off, and averted her eyes downwards to his bare chest, then back up to his eyes. "Because I wasn't sure if I really wanted to believe it, or if I even can believe it."

"What is it?" He asked.

"Eve is Tracey's ex-fiance..." Misty said, and she saw shock flash across her husband's face. "Holly is his daughter. She's only about a year older than Fiona."

"Tracey had a kid?" Brock asked, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

"And I didn't kill him," she said, her voice still a low whisper. "I shot him, and I thought he was dead, but...I didn't kill him, Brock. He was in a rehab center in Celadon City since that happened, and he healed...and he escaped. What if the condom belonged to him?"

"Escaped?" Brock asked. "He's alive. Tracey Sketchit...is alive?"

Misty nodded. "They think he's come back to Pewter City to find me. To find us."

Brock's mind flashed back to the corpse he found behind the house, then back to the drawings he and Gary had found in the guest bedroom at Delia's house five years ago when he had first come back from Professor Ivy's place to find Misty.

 _It's almost time for our second battle._

The words flashed through his mind again. Their second battle...not a Pokemon battle.

"Hey, it's alright," Brock said, his own voice was shaking and he knew he didn't sound confident. "Like I said, I've flushed this entire place out and we have that alarm system now. The police are patrolling the area. If he's around here, they will catch him."

Misty's mind flashed back to the day in the Xanadu nursery, when Tracey had lured her out there, and proposed to her. When she had refused, he immediately knew it was because she was in love with Brock and he had tried to rape her.

Brock had almost killed him then, but left him to suffer in his own misery in the nursery.

"No one's going to hurt you," Brock's voice snapped her back to the present and she looked into his eyes. "Not as long as I'm here. Remember when I told you that I would protect you until the day I die?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, of course I do."

"And I've stuck by that promise, and I'm still here." he offered her a smile, kissing her lips. "You're so beautiful."

When he kissed her, she knew that making love to her husband was exactly what she needed right now.

...

Brock wouldn't admit it to Misty, partially because of his pride, and mostly because he didn't want to scare her any worse than she already was, but he felt uneasy in the house. He wasn't sleeping well. He had fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning, probably after three A.M., after he had laid there for hours, holding Misty close to him until she fell into her own uneasy sleep.

But his eyes had snapped open at around 5:30 A.M., and though he turned his pillow over to cool side, and flipped over on his other side, a half an hour later, sleep still did not come back to him. He kept looking at the closet. The golden, shiny handle was reflecting what little moonlight came through the window, and he knew dawn would take another hour to get here at this time of year.

He heard Misty's quiet breathing beside him, and he remembered the conversation she had with him just a few hours ago. All of it was bizarre. Tracey being alive. Tracey coming into their home and stalking them, leaving used condoms outside of their shower.

He quietly got out of bed, and reached for the clothes he had abandoned on the floor just a few hours ago. His hand touched nothing but carpet in the dark, and as his tired eyes adjusted, he grabbed his cell phone from the night stand.

Where were his clothes? He went all around the bed, but his cell phone light picked up nothing but carpet. He clicked on the bedside lamp, and squinted against the sudden light of it all and looked around the room. His clothes were gone. He could tell that Misty had not gotten dressed either, but her silk pajamas were also missing.

He sighed. _Alright, there is absolutely nothing weird about this. You probably threw them in the hamper to be washed this weekend. It's not unsual for you to tidy up a little bit without even thinking about. You are a rational man. That's probably what happened."_

He reached for a new pair of boxers and a new tank top of his drawer and clicked back off the light, as not to disturb Misty.

He crept out into the hallway, looking over at Fiona's room, her nightlight giving the hallway a little bit light. He made his way into the kitchen and flipped on the light. One of the bulbs had burned out in the ceiling fan above the kitchen table, he would need to replace that, but not right now. Two bulbs was plenty for him to see, but it did give the kitchen an eerie feeling.

He started a pot of his favorite Cerulean coffee and went outside to fetch the newspaper. Flipping to the front page, he settled down on the kitchen stool and began to read. The front page story made his blood run cold.

Eighteen year old girl, found murdered in Pewter man's yard. No, they hadn't used his name. He hadn't even had an interview with the press about it, but he knew exactly what it was. He read through the story and saw that detective stone had given an interview, along with the girl's twin brother, Jared, and her best friend, Kelly.

Brock heard his coffee maker start to brew coffee, but the steam he saw rising from the top of it, did nothing to calm him down. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard footsteps coming down the staircase at such a rapid place, that by the time he got to his feet, he saw that it was just Rose.

"I thought I heard someone down here," she said, giving him a smile.

"Oh, hey," he said, clearing his throat, hoping she hadn't noticed the look of panic in his eyes, or the terror in his voice. "I...I made some coffee, if you want some."

"I'd love a cup," she said, and watched Brock as he poured two cups of the dark, rick coffee into the ceramic mugs, and then pulled the flavored cream out of the fridge and flipped over the sugar container.

"You like yours straight black, right?" Brock asked, and Rose nodded. He handed her the mug, and he noticed she had gotten herself a fresh manicure. Her nails were shiny, red, and perfectly filed.

She smiled at him and Brock started to become uneasy. She seemed to have picked up on this.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare at you, Brock..." Rose said, softly. "You are just so handsome. You look so much like Flint."

Brock hated hearing that. He hated hearing that he looked like his father, because he didn't feel like his father's son, but when he looked in the mirror, he could see that he clearly was. He was only 27 years old, but when Flint was his age, he could have been his twin brother.

"Rose, my mother knows that you two are sleeping together," he said, sipping his coffee.

"I know she does," she told him, trying to hide her shame, but knowing it wasn't working. "Your mother has always known. I've been in love with your father since you were very little."

"You knew me when I was little?" He asked, and he only faintly remembered her now. She had been much younger than, she kind of looked like Misty, but the drugs and the drinking had aged her, and taken that natural beauty away from her that Misty still had, and would always have.

"Your mother used to baby sit Daisy, Violet and Lilly. Before Misty was born," she said, her mind flashing back to the night Lola stormed out, taking Brock with her, who was screaming when that man she had taken home had beaten him harder than he should have. That man was Misty's father, but she had never told him she was pregnant, or even told him about Misty. She felt bad about that, but she wasn't sure if Brock even remembered it.

Or if it had blended in with all the other beatings he had gotten from his father growing up.

He grinned, and Rose's heart skipped a beat. Flint had that same grin, the same mannerisms. He sounded like Flint until he spoke, then she was reminded that it was his son, and he had a certain boyish charm that Flint had lacked, even back then.

"I thought the first time you saw me was when..." he paused. "Well, you know."

Rose giggled. "When you were making me another grandbaby? No! It's the first time I've seen you so handsome though."

"Misty and I are going to try for another baby," he said, and Rose watched him as he sipped the last of his coffee from the cup, and pored him another cup. Rose suddenly felt jealous of Misty. Why should she have someone as sexy, smart and kind as Brock? Why couldn't _she_ have had Flint when they were younger? Why couldn't _she_ have had Flint's children, instead of Lola? Why did Misty get so lucky and get Brock? Why did she deserve it?

 _Stop it, Rose!_ She shouted to herself in her mind. _That is your daughter. You should be thrilled she has a guy like Brock! What the hell is wrong with you?_

"I think that's great," Rose said, outloud, sipping her coffee, finishing it and putting the mug down on the counter. She stood up and approached Brock as he stirred up his coffee. She couldn't help herself any longer, the soft cotton of his tank top laying against his dark, smooth skin was driving her crazy.

Brock felt her press her body against his, and her manicured nails scratched just hard enough to leave little white marks down his arm. His eyes went wide, and he turned around and saw Rose standing there, trapping him against the counter.

"Brock, will you make love to me?" Rose asked.

"R-rose," he backed away from her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I want to feel the way I felt when I was with Flint all those years ago..." she said, pushing her against the counter, rubbing her hand on his crotch. He wasn't aroused, at least not yet, she thought, but she could tell he would definitely satisfy her.

"Rose, stop," he pushed her back, gently, but hard enough to tell her he wasn't interested and that he meant business. "I'm not my father, Rose. I won't cheat on my beautiful wife, especially with her own mother, and even if I did, I'm still not Flint, no matter how much you want to tell yourself I am."

Rose reached out her hand, squeezing her shoulder. "Then just kiss me. Just once, just kiss me. I've been wanting to feel something, ever since that day I walked in on you and Misty, I've been wanting to feel you. I miss the feeling of being dominated by a man. Like Flint used to do to me."

"Rose, please, stop," he said, backing away from her, looking for an escape. "I let you stay in my home to help you. Don't make me regret it. Don't disrespect my decision."

Her eyes flooded with tears. "It's because I am old, isn't it?"

"No," Brock said, shaking his head. "You're not old. I'm just married, to your daughter. And I love her. I traveled half way around the world to be with her, and find her, and beg for her forgiveness for being a horny teenage guy, and I'm not about to mess that up ever again."

Rose looked into his eyes and cupped his face with her hand. "You are right, Brock. You are a good man and a good husband. You are nothing like Flint."

...

 _November 1999_

_It was thanksgiving. Brock knew it because he could smell the turkey cooking as the scent of it came up the stairs and slipped under the crack of his door. He opened his eyes, not wanting to get out of the comfort of his bed. He finally had the week off from school, and he just wanted to sleep until dinner time._

 _He was thirteen now, and all he wanted to do was sleep, eat, and look at girls._

 _Forest, his nine year old brother, however, was awake at 10 A.M. and there is nothing he wanted to do, but to sit in front of the television and watch the parade with his big brother. So Brock was dragged out of bed, and he was pleasently surprised at how warm the house was. His mother was in a red checkered apron, her hair done in curls._

 _She smiled as she turned on the television, and the screen was filled with a giant Sonic The Hedgehod baloon floating down Celadon City streets. Erika Green, who was the up and coming gym leader of Celadon City, waved on a float, and Brock was suddenly glad he had woken up. Erika was a couple years older than he was, and he thought she was beautiful._

 _"I'm going to bring you guys some samples of my pumpkin pie, so you can taste it," she said, retreating off into the kitchen. Brock picked up a throw pillow and smacked his brother in the face with it, just because he wanted to._

 _"Hey!" Forest whined, and hit Brock back in the face. They both started laughing and Lola's voice rang out over the announcer's voice on the television._

 _"Boys! Boys! Stop it, now! Someone is going to get hurt!" She scolded them, but her voice was always so soft that none of her children felt threatened anytime she reprimanded them._

 _"Here," she gave them each a plate and fork with a tiny bit of pie. "Taste it. See if you like it."_

 _Brock took a bite. "This is good, Mom." He said, with his mouth full._

 _Forest ate his piece one bite and just nodded his head._

 _"Oh, Good!" She cheered. "I'm making your father blueberry cobbler."_

 _"Where is Dad anyway?" Brock asked, but he could tell by his mother's expression that he wasn't home. It was ten in the morning, on thanksgiving, and he wasn't home. He watched her as she searched for an answer._

 _"He must be at the gym," she said, knowing that all gym were closed on holidays, especially major ones. "I think he's redoing the landscaping or something."_

 _But Brock knew where he was. He was down at the bar, drinking, and he had probably been there all night._

 _Hours passed, and Brock and Forest had fallen asleep on the couch while watching the parade. They were both awoken by smoke filling the house, the loud alarm peircing their ears, and Lola was coughing. Brock rushed into the kitchen to check on his mother, but she was fine. He coughed a bit in the smoke._

 _"Mom, are you OK?"_

 _"I'm fine, honey," she said, waving the smoke away from her with an over mitt. "I was doing the laundry and I forgot about the cobbler I made. I burnt it. I'll have to run to the supermarker and get some more ingredients. Do you think you can look after everyone while I'm gone?"_

 _"Sure, Mom, you got it," Brock said, feeling overjoyed that his mother always left him in charge. But his happiness quickly turned to dread when he heard the front door open._

 _"Lola!" His father's voice boomed through the house, and Forest jumped up off the couch, his heart pouding._

 _"Daddy!" Forest ran over to him, to hug him, but Flint pushed him off, knocking him down on his butt. Pain shot through his tail bone,and he struggled to his feet, hiding behind Brock for protection like he always did._

 _His little sister, Susie, who was four years old, had come down the staircase when she heard the smoke alarm and was now cowering down as he father stomped around the house._

 _"What in the hell is going on in here?" He asked, looking over at Lola who was scraping a blackened cobbler into the trash. "Oh Jesus H. Christ! Lola, are you so fucking stupid you can't even cook a cobbler?"_

 _"I'm sorry, Honey. I was just about to run to the store and-"_

 _He cut her off. "And what? Buy more to make a second one. Do I look like I'm made of money? Do you know how bad the gym is doing? The Pokemon league has already sent me two notices saying they are going to shut us down and take our credit away if I don't pick up the wins in the next month. Do you think I have the money for you two make two fucking cobblers?"_

 _"I'm sorry," she said, timidly. "I got busy with the laundry."_

 _"Mom," Brock spoke up, as he scooped up his little sister who had ran to him for protection. "I can take care of the laundry. I really don't mind helping out."_

 _"Oh hell no!" Flint screamed, the scent of alchohol on his breath made Brock want to gag. "No son of mine is going to do pussy work. You'll have people thinking maybe you ain't right, if you know what I mean. Ain't no son of mine ever going to be doing a woman's work."_

 _Brock scowled at him. "You know what, Dad? I'm getting pretty sick of the way you treat everyone around here."_

 _Flint scoffed at him. "Well, look at you, Boss. You think you are the man of the house now?"_

 _Susie buried her face in Brock's neck, to keep the scent of alcohol from burning her nose._

 _"More of a man than you will ever be!" Brock said, letting Susie slide from his arms. She ran to Lola and Lola held her close, sheilding her eyes._

 _"Brock, honey, please," Lola said. "Just go up to your room. Don't get yourself in the middle of this."_

 _"No, Mom," he said, puffing out his chest and standing up to his father. He had almost reached his father's height, even at thirteen, but he still had a few inches to go, and his body mass hadn't developed yet. He still had the body of a kid, but he had the confidence and the courage of a man, and he wasn't going to let Flint push his mother around anymore._

 _Flint stared at him in the eyes, his drunkeness made him stumble a bit and his eyes were bloodshot._

 _"Oh, I get it," he said. "You're gonna grow up and be one of them, ain't ya? A guy who likes the guys?"_

 _"So what if I do?" Brock asked. "There is nothing wrong with that. At least I won't be an alcoholic wife beater. You'll still be the same drunken idiot you are now."_

 _"Don't call me names like that, you fucking little bitch!" Flint yelled at the top of his lungs, and Brock felt saliva hit him in the face and the stech of alchohol fill his nostrils, but he didn't flinch, he just stood up to him._

 _"What are you going to do, Dad?" Brock asked. "Hit me?"_

 _With a sickening crack, Lola watched as her husband struck Brock in the face, sending him flying to the ground on his back. His lip was bleeding, but he lifted his head up, ignoring the dizziness._

 _"That all you got, drunk?" Brock asked, laughing."You always taught me to be tough. Strong like a stone. You hit like a girl!"_

 _Flint spit at him as Brock got to his feet. Then he focused on Lola who was sitting on the kitchen floor, clutching Forest and Susie in her arms._

 _"Get up, Lola!" He screamed. "Now!" He demanded at the top of his lungs._

 _She sprang to her feet, and Brock got to his, slowly, trying to shake off the dizziness he felt after being struck that hard._

 _He raced towards her, and Brock felt anger rise within, making his blood boil._

 _"Hey! This fight is between you and me!" Brock said, hitting his own chest with his fist. "Come on and fight me like a man, you drunk bastard!"_

 _"I don't fight pussies!" Flint said, kicking the remaining burnt cobbler at him. "Have that for dinner, pussy!"_

 _When he saw Flint grab Lola by her perfectly curled hair and slam her against the wall, something inside him just snapped. He pulled Flint off of Lola and sent him across the room, knocking him into the dining room table. In less than a second, before Flint could get his bearings, Brock was on top of him, beating him in the face with his fist, pummeling him until Lola was sure he was going to kill._

 _"Brock, No! Please! Stop it!" She screamed, tears rushing down her face. "Stop it, baby! Please don't do that!"_

 _She grabbed his arm, feeling the tight muscle in it quivering as he spent all of his force and energy on beating his father's face in. He heard her crying and his anger disappated, he sobered up and looked down at his father._

 _His eye was bloody, as was his nose, and his teeth were practically gone._

 _His own knuckles were bloody, and he thought maybe they were broken, but he felt no pain._

 _Lola pulled him into her arms and cradled him. "Oh, baby, what did you do? What did you do?"_

 _"I...I don't know, Mom...I...I just lost it," Brock looked up at her, tears were in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "I am tired of watching him hit you."_

 _Lola kissed the top of his head and cradled him some more, rubbing his arm. "It's OK, Baby. I won't let him do anything to you. I won't ever let him hurt you." Hot tears streamed down her face and she hugged Brock so close to her, that she felt like she just wanted to pull him into her, protect him like she had before he was born._

 _He had protected her, probably saved her life._

 _That very same night, Flint had left, and Lola had wrapped up Brock's hand, and then he repaired the table and they ate thanksgiving dinner on the wobbly table. Lola looked at all her children sitting at the dinner table, and then she realized, she couldn't raise all of them by herself. Not now, not with Flint gone. What was she going to do?_

 _Then she looked over at Brock, who was spoon feeding his youngest brother._

 _He was the one. He was the one who would save the family and Pewter Gym._


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

With October's arrival, the cold weather and colorful leaves did as well. The first Saturday in October, Brock woke up about mid-morning. He was surprised to see Misty was already awake, she usually slept late on the weekends, but she was in the kitchen making breakfast for herself and Fiona. She smiled at him.

"Hey, Honey, do you want a pancake?" she asked.

"Sure. Do we have chocolate chips?" He asked, and Misty smiled.

"That's what Fiona asked for, too," she kissed him good morning and set to work.

"Daddy," Fiona said, stabbing her pancake with her fork. "Mommy said we can decorate for Halloween today!"

"Yea! You want to help me after we eat?" He asked, and Fiona nodded, excitedly.

Misty brought him his food and sat down beside him.

"Where's Rose?" Brock asked, knowing he had been avoiding her for the past week since she tried to feel him up in the kitchen.

"Is she still asleep?" Misty asked, hoping her mother would just stay in her bedroom all day. She felt bad for feeling that way, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't really like her mother.

"Probably," Brock said, finishing up his pancake, and taking his plate and Fiona's plate to the sink. "Alright, kiddo, go over to the closet and pull out the halloween box. I'm gonna help Mommy clean up."

She ran excitedly into the living room, and opened the closet that her parents didn't use, except to store holiday decoration and stuff. There were bunnies for easter, ornaments for the Christmas tree, and some wrapping paper from last year, among them, she found the box marked "Halloween" and pulled it out, rummaging through it, pulling out candy bowls, fake spider webs, a bag of fake cobwebs, and an inflatable vampire that Brock had insisted on getting because he thought it looked "cool".

Brock stood at the sink with Misty as she rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

"You didn't eat anything," Brock told her. "Are you feeling OK?"

"I feel fine, sweety," Misty said, trying to ignore her nauseous stomach. It was probably just her nerves and the lack of sleep she had gotten. She looked over at Brock and he was watching her. "Do you really think we are safe?"

"Of course we're safe," Brock kissed her lips softly. "Don't be afraid of anything. Tracey can't find us, and even if he does, he can't get through our alarm without notifying the police, who will be here before he even knows what hit him. He'll be arrested and locked up forever."

Misty nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I've just been so afraid he's going to find us, and try to hurt Fiona. Or me, again. Or you..."

"He's going to have a hell of a time getting passed me," Brock said, winking at her. "I'll snap his little bitch ass in half!"

"Brock, don't be so violent. Fiona can hear you!" She scolded him, but he just grinned and pulled her into another kiss.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," he said, and she kissed him back. Fiona ran into the kitchen with the bag of spider webs.

"Daddy! Let's go!" She said, impatiently.

"Alright, my little goblin, get out side and let's make this place look haunted, OK?" He said, chasing her out the door and onto the porch, mockingly acting like a monster and making her squeal with delight.

Misty walked upstairs to the bedroom to lie down, her dizziness was getting worse. After climbing the stairs however, she ran to the bathroom, and threw up in the toilet. The queasiness in her stomach began to immediately subside, and after her disgust wore off, she stood up and rinsed her mouth out.

She knew she had to get a pregnancy test now.

Looking in the mirror, she splashed her face with cold water, and her stomach growled with hunger. As she wiped off her face with a towel, feeling refreshed, she looked into her shower, through the clear, glass door and saw Tracey Sketchit.

His mouth was stretched into a wide grin, and his eyes bore into her with rage, and hate. Her throat contricted and she couldn't even scream. He was there, and he slowly crept into the linen closet, never taking his eyes off of her. She was looking right at him! She immediately whipped around, and he was completely out of sight, the linen closet was closed.

She started to cry and backed out of the bathroom, running down the stairs, screaming for Brock to come inside. She opened the door, and saw her husband and daughter stringing up orange lights, Brock was stringing them on the roof, and Fiona was wrapping them around the railing of the steps leading off their porch.

Brock saw the look of pure horror on her face, and they both looked over at Fiona, who was proudly displaying her cobwebs she hung in the corners, but when Misty fell into Brock's arms and sobbed, she knew something was wrong.

"Mommy?" She asked, tugging on her shirt.

"Honey, what's the matter?" He asked, pulling her back so she could look up at him.

"He was...he was in the bathroom," she stammered. "I saw him. He went into the closet and I...I...I saw him, Brock!"

Brock didn't have to ask her who she was talking about. He told her to stay outside on the porch with Fiona, and he grabbed the metal baseball by the closet by the front door where they kept their coats and headed upstairs.

He went into their bathroom and swung open the closet by the shower. Nothing. Nothing but towels, washrags, and a bakset full of soap refillers. He walked across the bedroom and checked behind the door, and finally in their closet that they shared. He moved things around, looking behind every piece of clothing but found nothing.

When he emerged from the bedroom, he was shocked to see his father, his hair was messy, and Rose stood beside him in her green, oriental print, silk robe.

"What was all the noise about?" Rose asked, and Brock rolled his eyes.

"Misty thought she saw something," he said, descending the staircase, clinking the baseball bat on the stairs. "What are you doing here, Dad? Did you...did you spend the night here?"

"I hope you aren't mad, Brock," Rose said, sweetly. "We were out very late last night, and we both had a little too much to drink." She giggled.

"Drink?" Brock asked, discarding the baseball bat by the wall of the staircase. "I don't allow drinking in my house, Rose. I ask that you respect that."

"We didn't drink here," Rose assured him. "We just went out to dinner and we had a little too much. We took a cab home, everything was safe."

"I thought you didn't drink anymore," Brock said, fury rising up within him. "The only reason I am letting you stay here, Rose, is because I am a good person and you are my wife's mother, but I don't have to be generous..." His eyes flashed over to his father. "And you..."

Flint looked into his eyes and saw nothing but resentment in his son's face.

"I'm your father," Flint said.

"Does mom know your here?" He asked, and Flint nodded his head, a look of shame came over his eyes.

"She kicked me out," He replied and Brock slumped his shoulders.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..." Brock buried his face in his hands.

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain, son. I've told you about that," Flint said, scoldingly.

"No, Dad, this is my house!" Brock raised his voice, and by now, Misty had stepped through the front door with Fiona. "I will use any fucking language I want to in my own damn house. I am not a little boy anymore and I refuse to let you treat me like one."

Flint backed away from him. "I'm sorry."

"You're damn right you are," He said, noticing Fiona was staring up at him, her eyes fill fo questions. Why was he yelling at her grandpa like that?

"Can I stay here, Brock?" Flint asked. "Just until I can find a place to stay?" He asked, and Brock looked at him, practically begging him for help.

He looked over at his wife and daughter, and he remembered what he had told Misty when he had allowed Rose to stay here. She deserved a second chance, and if he turned his father away, he would be hypocritical. And besides all of that, Lola Harrison raised him to be charitable.

"No more drinking," Brock said, looking directly at his father and then at Rose. "And I want you to be looking for a place to live, Dad. Don't think this is permanent." He turned away from him and headed back down to Misty, who was cradling Fiona.

"I didn't find anything," he said, keeping his voice low, as not to let Rose and Flint know what she had told him. "You don't look like you feel well, Honey."

She bit her lip and looked down at her feet, before meeting is gaze again. "I think I might be pregnant."

...

Misty sat in the exam room that following Monday. She would have settled with just a store bought pregnancy test like she did when she found out she was pregnant with Fiona, but she was clearly hallucinating and needed to find out why.

Brock had rescheduled a battle, postponing it only a couple of hours so he could go with Misty, and he returned a moment later with a bottle of gingerale from the machine in the waiting room.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Nauseous," she said, sipping the gingerale, hoping it would sooth her stomach.

"That's because little Brock Jr. is in there," Brock said, winking at her.

She smiled. "We don't know that yet. Besides, it could be a girl. You made a bet with me that Fiona was going to be a boy, and you were wrong."

"Well, I have a 50 percent chance of being right," he said, taking a large gulp on the Pepsi he had bought. A few moments passed, Brock was flipping through a brochure on how the birth canal works and he winced.

Eventually, the door opened with a small click and a dark haired woman in her forties walked in and smiled at them. Dr. Wilma Fleming had been the doctor that delivered Fiona when they first got an OB/GYN in Pewter City.

"Well," Dr. Fleming said, opening up her folder. "Mrs. Harrison, you will be happy to know that you don't have the stomach flu. You are indeed, pregnant."

"I am?" She asked, feeling frightened, then overjoyed. Her emotions had been a rollercoaster lately. "I am!"

"How far along?" Brock asked, clutching onto his wife's hand.

"Six weeks," Dr. Fleming smiled, and lifted up the gown, applying cold gel on her stomach and moving the camera around. "It's hard to see right now, but you see that little gray area there? That's your baby. About the size of kidney bean right now."

"So my baby will be due in the spring?" Misty asked.

"Yes, May 15th, according to the conception date," she said. "I'll want to see you back in here in November for another check up. You can just make the appointment at the front desk. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison."

As she walked out, Misty stepped off the table and Brock hugged her. "We're going to have a baby!"

She kissed him passionately and he chuckled. "Whoa! See, this is exactly why we are here in the first place."

She laughed and slapped him on the arm. "I just hope my mother and your father are gone by the time this baby comes." She said, her tone turning serous.

"Oh, they will be," Brock said. "I want them out after Christmas. We are going to have to turn the room into a nursery. I'm also going to fix up the basement."

The basement always scared Misty, and she had been wanting Brock to fix it up, but she wasn't sure if it would help with the creepiness of it. It always seemed like someone was hiding, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

...

"Pregnant?" Rose asked, her shocked gaze slowly turning into a smile.

"I'm six weeks," Misty said, she hadn't stop smiling since they left the hospital. She had wanted to wait to tell anyone that she was pregnant, at least until she hit her 3 month mark, but she couldn't resist, telling someone, anyone, even her mother.

Flint smacked Brock on the back, a little too harshly. "Good job, Son. Maybe you will have a son who will carry on the Harrison name."

Brock winced, not liking the feeling of his father touching him, in anyway. "Thanks, Dad. That's what we're hoping for."

He kissed Misty on the cheek and told her he would be upstairs taking a shower. Misty didn't really want to be alone in the kitchen with her mother and Flint, but she knew why he was really going upstairs. To call his Mom.

Brock pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, scrolled to his mother's name and pressed the call button. On the second ring, her heard her pick up.

"Brock?" She asked, and he could hear the sadness in her voice, the hurt.

"Mom, hey," he said, settling back against his pillow. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, honey," she smiled, even though she knew Brock couldn't see it, but he also couldn't see the tear on her face. "He's there with you, isn't he?"

"Yea," Brock replied. "I'm sorry, Mom. If it hurts you, I will kick him out. I'll-"

"No, Honey," Lola's voice was soft and kind, almost like wrapping him up in a warm blanket and cradling him. "Don't do that. Your father needs you. And you are a far bigger man that he ever will be. Set the example of kindness for Fiona."

"Alright," he agreed, feeling the guilt of letting his father stay there, subside. "Listen, I have some really awesome news. It should cheer you up."

"Oh, I could definitely use that now," Lola said, chuckling. "What's going on?"

"Misty's pregnant," he said, and immediately he heard Lola gasp.

"Oh, Honey! That's wonderful!" Lola squealed. "How far along is she? Is it a boy or a girl? Oh wouldn't it be cute, watching Fiona be a big sister?"

Brock laughed. "I don't know yet, Mom. Misty is only 6 weeks. We aren't really telling anyone except for immediate family right now. We haven't even told Fiona yet. I'm not sure how she's going to take it."

"Well," Lola said, thinking back. "You took it well. We told you as soon as I found out I was pregnant with Forest. You were so excited. All you did was talk about the baby for 7 and a half months."

"I just hope Fiona takes it as well," he said, then he sighed. "Do you need me to come over?"

"Honey, you know you, Misty and Fiona are welcome here anytime you want or need me," Lola replied. "But your first priority is your wife and your babies right now. So don't come over to take pity on me. Only come over if you want some delicious apple pie."

He chuckled. "Alright, Mom. Well, I'll let you go. Misty and I are going to take Fiona out for ice cream and break the news to her. I hope she doesn't ask where babies come from."

"Tell her you order them off of eBay," Lola said, laughing, trying to cover up the pain she had been feeling since she kicked Flint out, and Brock could tell, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm sure she'll buy that one," Brock said, laughing, then his voice turned serious. "Hey, I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Sweetheart," Lola said, and then they hung up. He headed back downstairs and Flint was showing Fiona how to color inside the lines in her coloring book, since she had a tendancy to scribble.

Misty's face immediately lit up when Brock entered the room and she stood up. "I'll grab my purse."

"Where are you two going?" Rose asked.

"We are going to take Fiona out for ice cream," Brock replied and Fiona looked over at him, jumping off of Flint's lap and into her father's arms.

"Yay! Ice cream!" She squealed, and Brock slid her to the ground.

"Go grab your coat. Put on your shoes," he said, and watched her go over to the closet and pull out her jacket. Misty came around the corner, ready to go and get out of there as soon as possible. As soon as the three of them left, Rose gave Flint a smile.

"We're alone now," she said, pulling him up the staircase.

...

Fiona had taken the news really well. So well in fact, that she hadn't asked Misty to walk her inside the school for the rest of the week. She was simply escorted by the teacher who stood out in the freezing cold every morning, to make sure the children got in safely.

By the time Friday had rolled around, Fiona wasn't crying, even though Misty had been ten minutes late from picking her up, because she had dozed off on the couch. She was exhausted, and she knew the next nine months were only going to make her more tired.

As Fiona climbed into the car, she smiled over at her mother. "Mommy, can I spend the night with Holly?"

"Spend the night?" Misty asked. "Well, if Holly's mom says it's alright, I suppose you can." She replied.

"I'm a big sister now. So I have to do big sister things, right?" Fiona asked as they drove down the road towards their house.

"Right," Misty nodded and smiled at her. "But you don't have to spend the night if you don't want to. I don't want you to get homesick." Misty realized what she was doing. She was reflecting her own anxieties onto her daughter, and she knew she shouldn't be doing that. But Fiona had never spent a night away from home.

"I won't," Fiona promised, and Misty pulled out her cell phone after parking in the driveway. After a couple rings, Eve's voice cracked over the speaker.

"Hey, it's Misty," she said, as Fiona unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car. "Fiona asked me if she could spend the night with Holly tonight. It's alright with me, if it's alright with you...since I know you don't want Holly over at our place right now."

Eve sighed. "Holly's been asking me the same thing all day. It's fine with me."

"I'll bring Fiona over about 5. Brock and I will give you some money for her dinner," Misty offered, but Eve declined.

"No, it's fine. I can order a pizza," she said, then paused and Misty sensed she wanted to say something else. "I hope you aren't offended that I won't let Holly come over there anymore."

"No, I understand," Misty said, walking towards the house. "It's because of Tracey. You have to protect your baby just like I have to protect mine." _Both of mine._ She reminded herself, feeling a little queasy from being out in the sun.

"Good," Eve smiled. "See you at 5."

Misty gave Fiona an early bath and helped her pack. By the time five o'clock rolled around, the sun was starting to set and the air was crisp and cool. She pulled up to Eve Castillo's house, a two story, white home with dark blue shutters and a large oak tree in the front yard.

Misty carried her sleeping bag and Fiona hauled her overnight bag up the lawn, despite Misty telling her not drag it in the grass. Eve invited Misty into her home, and she noticed that her house was much like her own. Her living room was covered in a thick, plush ruby colored carpet, and in her kicthen sat a long, glass dining table with a centerpiece.

A thin hallway veered off from the living room, and she saw a large poster of "My Little Pony" on one of the walls, and she assumed that was Holly's room. The house smelled like lilacs and was very clean. Fiona would be alright here, Misty convinced herself.

She pulled out a notepad. "Here is my phone number, and Brock's phone number. If you need to contact me at anytime. If she gets homesick, or gets hurt or sick, you can call me at anytime. No matter what time it is."

Eve smiled. "Don't worry, Misty. I'm sure Fiona will be fine."

Misty nodded and leaned down, kissing Fiona on the head. "I'm leaving now. I love you."

"I love you, too" Fiona said, pulling out a barbie from Holly's big box of dolls. "Bye, Mommy!"

Misty waved again and soon found herself heading back to her car, childless. Eve had a nice, normal, quiet home. Nothing bad would happen to Fiona there, right? Nothing bad ever happened in homes like that.

Still, as she drove back to her own home, where so many strange occurances had happened, her confidence began to wane, and as twilight turned into the blackness of an October night, her anxiety grew worse.

...

The girls had eaten as much pizza as two four year olds possibly can, and had been through Holly's entire Disney collection, and were now diving into the collection Fiona had convinced her mother to let her bring.

She had a few movies that Holly didn't have, and they decided among themselves to watch "Tangled". It was almost ten o'clock, and normally Fiona would be ready to go to bed if she was at home, but over here, she wasn't quite so ready.

As the movie drew to a close, Fiona looked up to see if Holly wanted to pick out another one, but she was already asleep. Fiona twisted uncomfotably in her sleeping bag, and thought maybe her mother was right. This was her first night spending the night away from her parents.

The house was eerily quiet, it didn't have the usual sounds that her own house did. She imagined that her parents were down in the living room, watching television, and even though they usually sent her to bed before watching movies, the sounds of their voices and laughter had always lulled her to sleep.

Fiona wished that her father was there to tuck her in, tell her a story he'd make up out of his head, and that her mother would come in, smelling sweet like the lotion she always wore before bed, leaning over and kissing her on the head, and sometimes, sitting on the edge of her bed to talk to her, about anything and everything, before she drifted off the sleep.

Eve didn't do that.

She buried her face into her pillow. It smelled like her mother, like the laundry detergent she used on all the clothes and the linens. An uncomfortable feeling rose within her throat, and she tried to shake it off. The only other time she ever got this feeling was that one time her father had scolded her for dipping her shoes in white paint and stomping all over the porch while he was staining it.

"Fiona!" He had yelled, with a heavy sigh.

"I decorated it, Daddy!" She said, smiling.

Brock had raised his voice at her, but immediately resented it when he saw her tears. Then he had scooped her up in his arms and explained to her why she couldn't do things like that because he had to do it all over again.

Her mother had thought it was adorable, and her father, eventually was able to see the cuteness in it too, once he was finished with the staining.

But now, she was going to be a big sister. She couldn't cry anymore. Brock had explained to her all of the responsibilities of an older sibling, and that she was going to be in charge. She was no longer the baby.

A tear fell down and soaked her pillow case.

She got up on her knees and moved out of her sleeping bag, peeking into the hallway. It was pitchblack, and the only light that was there was emitted from Holly's nightlight. Another door down the hall had light coming from underneath it, so she knew that Miss Castillo was still awake.

She ventured out into the pitch dark hallway, and almost turned the knob on the door, but had remembered what her mother had told her about knocking first. Her knuckles made a low knocking noise on the wood of the door, and just as she was about to turn around and go back to Holly's room, Eve opened the door.

"What are you doing up?" Eve asked, but her voice held a note that made Fiona recoil.

"I can't sleep," Fiona said. She was ready to tell Eve that she missed her mother, and changed her mind and wanted to go home, but she thought that was too childish. No big sister would do that, would they?

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Eve asked, her shoulders sagged in frustration.

"I'm thirsty," she said, her mouth suddenly feeling like it's full of cotton.

"Fine," Eve immediately stomped toward the kitchen, her feet making a hollow thudding sound on the hardwood floor. She poured Fiona a glass of water, and she took it, gratefully, sipping the water. Then, just as she was done, Eve jerked the glass from her hands, poured the remainder in the sink.

"Now, go to bed!" Eve's voice was raised, even louder than what her father's had been that day on the porch, and instead of looking remorseful for raising her voice, Eve just stomped past her.

"I want you in there, lights out and asleep in ten minutes," she told Fiona, then grabbed a ruler from on top of the refridgerator. Fiona saw it, and flinched when Eve smacked it against her own hands.

Suddenly, the words just came out, and Fiona didn't care how much of a baby it made her out to be. "I miss...I miss my mommy!" She was on the verge of tears again, and Eve rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" She grabbed Fiona by her wrist, squeezing so tightly that Fiona squealed in agony. "Oh, hush up! I'm not squeezing you that hard." She shoved her into Holly's bedroom and Fiona quickly crawled into her sleeping bag, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to keep her sobbing quiet.

"Stop crying! You'll wake the dead! I'm not calling your mother. You need to grow up!" Eve said, uplugging the nightlight by the wall. "And this should be out by now because you should be asleep. Don't waste my electricity."

She slammed the door and plunged the room into blackness. Fiona cried into her pillow, until finally, her fretting sobs turned into steady rhythms, and she eventually fell asleep.

...

She wasn't aware of how long she had been asleep, but something woke her up. Something moved in the darkness above her, and in those first few seconds of conciousness, she thought she was at home. But she wasn't in her bed, and the floor beneath her was hard, despite the fluffiness of her sleeping bag.

Fiona's eyes snapped open, and she saw what she was feeling. Black figures that were tall, broad and looming over her had surrounded her in the room. Sharp fingers prodded at her skin, and yanked at her covers.

She remembered when she was now. She was spending the night at Holly's, and then terror had set in even more when the rest of the memories had come back. The way Eve had yelled at her, the way she yearned for her own mother, who would have given her a glass of water in a sippy cup, let her take it to her room, and tucked her back in.

The figures moved the blanket down and she felt the coldness of he room through her pajamas. She screamed out, but a gloved hand went over her mouth. The smell of foul, rotting breath filled her nostrils and Fiona gagged, trying to escape the odor.

She wanted to run, escape, but to where? Her parents weren't here, and she wasn't about to go back to Eve for anything.

"This one is Harrison's girl," one of the voices said, it was a male voice, rough and raspy.

"If she's even half as pretty as her momma, we'll be doing good," the other voice said, with a laugh. Fiona had figured out there was two of them, and they momentarily left her alone to turn their attention to Holly. Fioan wasn't aware she had been awake, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and by what little moonlight was showing through the clouds outside, she could see her friend, sitting up in bed and cowering at the wall from the two men.

"Run," she whispered, and it took Fiona a few seconds to realize she was talking to her.

"Holly...what's wrong?" She asked, and the two men leered their heads back to her. She could make out their faces now. Fiona cowered from them, but one snatched her up, and threw her back on the bed, next to Holly.

"Get undressed," one of them demanded, and Fiona shook with fear.

"I'll get the Harrison girl," the other one said, his voice holding a sick, sinister note.

"Eve promised me the Harrison girl," the other one protested, then looked straight at Fiona. "Then I'm going after your pretty momma!"

The other one laughed, and pulled out a gun, casually loading it. "Like Misty Harrison would ever touch you. I guess Eve promised you the girl since you can't even dream of getting the woman."

They both stopped their squabble and pointed the guns at the girls. "I said get undressed!" One of them yelled and Fiona started to pull off her shirt, but Holly stopped her.

Then she kicked them, right between their legs as hard as she could. She had done it so fast, the the other man didn't have time to react fast enough when the first man was kicked and before he knew it, he too was curled up in a ball on the floor.

Holly grabbed Fiona, who was stunned and shock and forced her to her feet, and ran out into the hallway, picking up the cordless phone that sat by the living room entrance.

"Call your Mom!" Holly called out, keeping her voice low. She didn't know where her own mother was.

"I-I don't know her number!" Fiona said, her hands shaking over the buttons.

Holly heard shuffling in the next room, and grabbed Fiona, pulling her into the closet. It was stuffed with coats, a vaccume cleaner and a small Christmas tree, but Fiona was surprised to see Holly remove part of the wall. A 4 foot high area, that was roughly cut around the edges was revealed, and Holly shoved herself into the hole, just as the men emerged from the bedroom and entered the living room. She pulled Fiona inside and covered the wall back up with the plaster she had cut out.

They couldn't see a thing, and they were so cramped, that Fiona knew they would suffocate within a matter of minutes. Her whole body tensed as she heard the door to the closet being opened, and the coats being shuffled around. Holly kept her hand over Fiona's mouth, and they both quietly sobbed.

Then, they heard the closet door shut and the footsteps walk away.

...

Brock was starting to think he might never have sex again. Ever since his father had moved in, Misty hadn't been to keen on having sex with him. He supposed it made her feel awkward with her father in law in the next room, but he hadn't cared. This was his house and he'd be damned if anyone made him feel weird about making love to his wife.

After dinner, which was thankfully just the two of them, since Flint and Rose had stepped out to go see a late movie, Brock had decided it was the perfect opportunity to try and get Misty to relax. They went upstairs and Brock turned on the shower, re-entering the room as he watched her checking the phone. No calls.

"Honey," he said, grabbing her hips and pullng her towards him. "Fiona is fine. She's probably asleep by now anyway. And we're going to get her in the morning."

He kissed her then, but she had insisted she bringing her cell phone into the bathroom and putting it on an extra loud ringer, in case Eve called because Fiona needed her. They got in the shower together, and washed up, Brock taking the opportunity to soap up her body and touch her breasts, paying special attention to the areas that never failed to turn her on.

It had seemed to work. She pushed him against the glass tile walls of the shower,kissing him passionately, but after a few moments, he could tell she was distracted. His own arousal didn't waver at all.

"Babe," he whispered, breathlessly, not wanting to stop, but wanting to know if she was alright. "Are you OK?"

"I just...I just feel like something is wrong with Fiona," Misty told him, her body still pressed against his, and the warm water cascading over both of them.

"If something is wrong with Fiona, we would have gotten a phone call," Brock reassured her, deciding he would give up on sex for now. When Misty's anxiety was up like this, his job was to calm her down. He had always been good at that.

"I just have an awful feeling," she said, tears coming to her eyes.

"That's called an anxiety attack," he grinned at her. "Look, it's only 10:30. Maybe Eve is still awake. Did you want to give her a call and see if Fiona is alright?"

Misty wondered if it was too late, but she desparately wanted to put her mind at ease. She picked her cell phone and dialed Eve's number and waited. After 2 long rings, she heard the phone being answered, but no voice.

"Eve?" Misty asked, as she shrugged on her robe and Brock dried himself off, hoping that Eve would tell Misty that Fiona was fast asleep so she would finally relax.

No answer.

"Eve?"

Her eyes darted over at Brock as he put on a pair of geodude printed lounge pants. Then, she heard it. Heavy breathing and soft moaning, it crackled over the phone.

"Who-who is this?" Misty asked, her voice rising with terror. "Eve? Can you hear me?"

Brock grabbed the phone from his wife and pressed it to his ear. "Eve? Hello? This is Brock...I-"

A soft chuckle cracked over the phone. And a deep, sinister voice followed.

"You got a pretty wife..." The voice growled, in a low, gutteral tone.

"Who the fuck is this?" Brock asked, his own anxiety and anger now rising with in him.

"But your daughter is just my type," the voice growled again and Brock gripped the phone.

"Who is this?" He screamed at the top of his lungs, and Misty watched, frightened, holding her breath. "You sick bastard! You tell me who you are right now! Where is my daughter?"

The phone clicked off, and Brock looked back at Misty. They didn't bother getting dressed, and they didn't care how card it was outside. In less than a minute, they were racing towards Eve Castillo's house, never thinking of locking the door behind them.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Brock was speeding and breaking every law he could, even running redlights, and he didn't care if the police were around and ticketed him out the ass, he wasn't slowing down. The streets of Pewter City was almost empty anyway, save for the main highways.

A drive tha normally took 12 minutes, Brock was there in five, and they both jumped out of the car, racing through Eve's front yard and to her front door. It was locked of course and Brock banged on the door as loud as he could.

"Open up!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Fiona!" Misty called out.

In the small hole in the closet that Holly had pulled them into, Fiona could faintly hear her parent's voices. They were here! But how...? She hadn't called them? And she didn't think Eve had done it.

So how could they have known?

"Open up!" Brock banged louder on the door, but got no answer.

Fiona removed the plaster from the hole in the wall, but Holly pulled it back.

"No! You can't!" She said, shaking her head. "Those guys that were in my room. They aren't good guys. They have hurt me before."

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked.

"They touch me and I don't like it," Holly told her.

"But my Daddy is here," Fiona argued. "He won't let anyone hurt us!"

She removed the piece of wall again and crawled out, thankful to be out of the tiny space. Holly wanted to stop her again, but Fiona was too fast. She watched as Fiona swung the closet door open, and was startled by the loud banging on the front door.

"I'm gonna break this fucking door down if you don't answer me, Eve!" He yelled, ramming his shoulder into it as hard as he could. Fiona felt like the whole wall moved.

"Brock, you are going to break your shoulder," Misty said, and Brock backed up.

"I don't care about my shoulder," he said, but just as he was about to get another running start, the latch clicked up and the door swung inward. There, standing in her charmander, fleece pajamas was Fiona.

Misty's eyes filled with tears and Brock dropped down to his knees. She ran to him and he gathered her in his arms, tears running down her face. Misty wiped her tears away.

"Fiona, what's the matter, sweety?"

"Mommy!" Fiona threw herself into her mother's arms next. "I want to go home!"

"You're going home, sweetheart," Misty promised her, but Brock had walked towards the house and stepped inside. He was going to find the bastard who was making those remarks about his wife and daughter.

Holly tensed when she saw Brock walk in, and she couldn't resist the urge to run up to him.

"Holly!" Brock called out, looking at the direction she had come from. The open closet. "Where you in the closet?"

She nodded, huddling close to him. "There was two men in my room and...they tried to touch us. I'm scared!"

Brock looked back at Misty and Fiona, who were out on the porch and pulled them into the house. Those creeps could be anywhere right now and he wanted them close to him.

"It's alright, Holly. I won't let anyone hurt you," he stepped in front of her and called out. "Eve!"

Where was she?

Then, he heard someone stumbling down the hall. He readied himself for a fight, all of his blood was pumping into his muscles, but his body relaxed when he saw it was just Eve.

She stumbled down the hallway, a glass of scotch in her hand, when she saw Brock she smiled.

"I was just thinking about you," she said, stumbling over her feet. Misty's eyes went wide. Was that really Eve? Was she drunk? Was she high?

"Eve! What the hell is going on?" He asked, and she tripped again, landing in his arms.

"Did you come here for a late night fuck?" She asked, laughing hysterically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to say that to you for so long..." then her eyes fell on Misty. "I guess we can invite her to join. I can do women too."

"Eve, are you on coke?" He asked, and Eve laughed hyterically again.

"God, no! I am a school teacher!" She said, tears coming to her eyes from her laughter. "Am I on coke? I think you are on coke!"

Misty scowled at her. "Eve! What the hell is wrong with you? I leave my daughter in your care and you are drinking and doing drugs...and letting men come in here and feel her up? And your own daughter?"

Eve lit a cigarette. "Oh, calm down. No one is feeling them up. Just a couple of friends of mine were over here and they wanted to go in and see the girls. Nothing happened."

Brock turned and looked at Fiona. "Fiona, did those men hurt you? Are you hurting anywhere?"

She shook her head. "No."

"What about you Holly?" Brock asked, and Holly shook her head.

"They have hurt me before, but not tonight," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want to go home with you?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go."

"Oh, we will!" Misty said, gathering up Fiona. "And we're going straight to the police about this and then I am pulling my daughter out of your class!"

Brock went into Holly's room and gathered up her things, then emerged a moment later. He grabbed on to Holly's hand and led her out the door and to their car. It was the first time in a long time that she had felt safe.

Driving straight to the police station to fill out a report, Brock was a little more careful about obeying his traffic laws. He had his little girl, and both girls were safe, and that's all he cared about. Fiona complained of being tired, and she didn't really understand what was going on. She was just happy to be back with her parents again, and Holly was happy for the same reasons.

They interrogated the girls for almost two hours, but when Fiona started to cry, partially due to pure exhaustion, and partially due to intimidation, Misty opened the doors to the room and stopped it.

"This has gone on quite long enough," she said, picking Fiona up and comforting her.

Stone had stopped his interrogation anyway, it seemed to him like no harm was done to either of them, though Holly had told her some things had happened to her in the past, which is why she had built that hideout in the closet, and what possibly saved their lives.

"We can investigate," Detective Stone had told them, once they filed the report. "But if there is no evidence that an actual crime took place, we can't promise much. The girls said they weren't touched."

"They were stalked!" Misty said, exasperated.

"I know, Mrs. Harrison," Stone said, nodding his head. "I know, and the phone calls can be recorded and looked into as well, but I can't gather DNA from either suspect if the girls were not sexually or physically abused. All I can do is ask Miss Castillo some questions and give you a restraining order..." he looked at Holly. "I assume that isn't your child, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison?"

"It's not," Brock replied. "She's Eve's daughter. We didn't take her, not without Eve's permission."

"Alright," Stone said, twitching his mustache. "Just make sure you don't get slapped with a kidnapping charge. I'll get my men together and we will question Miss Castillo first thing in the morning. If I feel like there is anything suspicious, I will put in a court order for a warrant. We take accusations of child molestation very seriously, and you two did the right thing by reporting it. We will definitely look into it. Alright?"

Only semi-satisfied, Misty and Brock left the police station and headed home. The adrenaline wore off when they stepped into the house, and they saw Rose and Flint sitting together on the couch, watching television.

"Hey, where did you guys go?" Rose asked, not noticing the look of stress on either of their faces.

"We went to get Fiona," Brock said, sending both girls upstairs to clean up. He knew neither of them were going to bed soon, but settling down and getting their mind on a disney movie sounded like a good start.

"And Holly?" Flint asked.

Misty nodded and sat down in the recliner by the couch. "Eve let two men come in and...and..."

Rose's eyes widened. "Oh God...honey, no, please tell me they didn't-"

"They didn't," Misty quickly confirmed. "Holly and Fiona got away, but, it almost..." The tears she had been holding back in front of her daughter finally spilled out and Rose put her arms around Misty, hugging her close and for the first time in a long time, Misty hugged her back without even thinking about it.

"It's alright, Misty," Rose said softly. "The important thing is they are here now, and Fiona is in her own home. That's the safest place for her right now."

But Misty hadn't felt safe here in weeks.

She had felt eye constantly watching her, tracking her every move. She hadn't just avoided sex with her husband because of Flint and Rose being here, it had been because she felt eyes boring into her the entire time.

The image of Tracey Sketchit pleasuring himself to her while she slept flashed in her mind, and she knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep soon, either.

...

The telephone rang out, startling Brock from his slumber, which he had only enjoyed in short fits. When he opened his eyes, he knew it was morning, because of the light finding its way in, despite his dark drapes over the windows.

Another ring peirced to silence of the morning before his hand found his cell phone by his bed. Misty stirred beside him, and he knew she hadn't slept well either. They had went to bed around 3:30 A.M., after the girls had settled down while watching "The Little Mermaid", the two of them had collapsed in bed, but as soon as they were falling to sleep, they would both jerk awake. Brock believed he did that for about an hour or so before he finally got a good stretch of sleep, and he could feel Misty moving uncomfortably next to him.

He slid the green phone icon over to answer it, not bothering to look at the number or the time. He was suspecting it was his mother, especially if it was after 10 A.M., but the voice on the other end was not his mother's.

It was Detective Stone.

"Am I speaking with Mr. Brock Harrison?" The voice asked, and Brock rubbed his eyes, checking his bedside clock. 9:45 A.M.

"Yea," he said, yawning. "This is him."

Misty moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat the hum of his voice vibrating in her ear.

"This is Detective Stone. We got the DNA analysis back from the lab," Stone began, feeling uneasy. "The victim was raped before she was killed, and we tested any DNA on the body that was not her own. We didn't find anyone locally who did it, but we sent it off to the national Data base, which searches through basically anyone in the world."

"What did you find?" Brock asked, and now Misty was sitting up on her knees, looking at him.

"The DNA results match Tracey Sketchit. He's wanted on 15 murder charges since 2007," Stone's voice cracked over the receiever and Misty watched Brock's tan complexion turn white.

"What?" He asked.

"The reason I'm calling you is because in a police report it says that he was shot by your wife about 5 years ago. He was presumed dead, but was found to still be alive just before embalming took place," he said, and Brock sat up, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "He was in Celdon City recovering, but recently escaped."

Brock exchanged a glance with his wife. "I know who attacked my little girl last night, Detective. It has to be that son of a bitch!"

"We're already searching all over Pewter City for him. We have a warrant out for his arrest," Detective Stone informed him. "We're sending a couple cars to watch out near your gym and your families' home, and also your own home. We'll also be watching Fiona's school very carefully."

"Is there anything we can do?" Brock asked.

"Just keep your family close, Harrison," he told him. The two of them hung up and Misty's fear soon turned into terror as she realized that Brock was also very scared. She cried as silently as she could into his shoulder and he held her, kissing the top of her head.

"It's alright, I won't let anything happen to any of you," he promised, lifting her gaze up to meet his. He placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips, and lingered there for a moment, kissing her deeper, running her fingers through her hair.

"I love you," she said, wiping her tears. "Brock, I've been so terrified. I'm sorry I haven't been very attentive to you and we haven't been-"

"Honey, don't aplogize to me," he said, softly. "You are so beautiful, just looking at you in enough for me. Just don't be terrified. What have I always said to you?"

"That you will always protect me," she replied and he nodded.

"No matter what, and now that also applies to Fiona, and our new baby, which you need to take care of," Brock spread his hand on her belly. "Don't stress your body out. It's not good on this baby."

"I know," she said, wiping the last of her tears away. "It's just...now we know Tracey is definitely alive, and he's in the area and he killed someone and dropped her deady body in the yard." Her mind went back to when she had seen him in the bathroom closet. "I saw him in the bathroom closet..."

"You saw him? In the house?" Brock asked.

"I thought I did...I was in the bathroom a few days ago, and I had just thrown up from morning sickness, so I could have just been hallucinating, but I saw him go into our bathroom closet and I turned around and immediately opened it, but...he was gone."

"People just don't vanish," Brock said, maybe Misty was hallucinating, like she had said.

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "That's why I didn't say anything. I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

"I already think your crazy," he said, grinning, and she playfully slapped him.

"Brock, I'm scared!" She said, and he pulled her down to him, cuddling her close underneath the quilt, to ward off the cold of the October morning.

"Don't be scared," he told her softly. "We have our little girl, and she's OK, so there is nothing to be afraid of."

But even Brock didn't believe the confidence he tried to portray in his voice. Tracey had been watching them he could feel it. And now, with Holly, his own daughter, in the house, Tracey was sure to come here again.

...

A week had passed, and Misty had gotten to the point she was so exhausted that she basically slept through anything. Halloween was approaching, and Fiona and Holly decided they wanted to dress up like Anna and Elsa from Frozen.

The cotumes weren't hard to find, and it was worth seeing how happy the girls were at the costumes, but Misty wasn't too keen on letting them trick of treat.

Tonight was the night before Halloween, and Brock had went out and bought candy by the truck loads, or at least that's what it seemed to Misty, but it was probably only about 4 large bags. Their neighborhood was known to be friendly, and since Brock lived on the block, more young children had wanted to come and meet him since they thought of him as some kind of celebrity, so they usually got slammed with children in costumes.

They bought two pumpkins and Brock gave both the girls a large black sharpie to draw a face on them and he would carve them up. He left the girls in the kitchen, the dining table spread out with newspaper and he met his wife in the living room. They settled on the living room couch, and Brock was grateful that his father and Rose had went out once again to dinner, he just hoped it wasn't to purpose to her.

That would make for strange holidays. His father would also be his father-in-law, and his mother-in-law would be his stepmother, and Misty's father-in-law would be her stepfather as well. He shurgged the thought off.

"Do you think it's safe for the girl's to go trick or treating tomorrow?" She asked, glancing back at them, giggling in the kitchen as they drew silly faces on the pumpkins.

"Halloween only happens once a year and they are only little once," Brock said. "We will just keep them really close and not let them venture off to houses up ahead. We'll be with them at every house."

"I don't want to take the fun away from them," Misty said, leaning her head on his arm. "They don't really understand what's going on."

Brock wrapped his arm around her. "Don't worry, Babe. Everything will work out fine."

"Daddy!" Fiona called out. "We're finished!"

"Be there in a second!" He called back, then kissed his wife's cheek. "Just try to relax, Honey." He left her alone in the living room, and went to the kitchen. She heard the girls giggle in disgust as Brock emptied the pumpkin seeds out onto the table.

Holly giggled. "It looks like the pumpkin threw up! It's so gross!"

Brock picked the pumpkin up and made fake wretching noises, which sent the girls into a fit on giggles. Misty smiled. He was right. They would be just fine.

Rose and Flint had come home just as Brock was finishing up carving the pumpkins.

"Oh, what pretty pumpkins!" Rose said, noticing one was drawn scary and the other was drawn with a snaggled tooth grin. "Are you going trick or treating tomorrow?"

"Yea!" They both answered in unison, and Misty grinned.

"They wanted to go tonight, too, but I explained to them that our neighbors didn't have any candy prepared for them," she helped Brock clean up the kitchen and clear off the table.

Brock didn't say much once the girls were upstairs, preparing for their bath. He just cleaned up what dishes they had from dinner, and then went upstairs to his bedroom to play Xbox 360 before going to bed.

Flint then turned his attention to Misty. "I know he's mad at me."

"He's still dealing with...everything that happened," Misty said softly, and sat down at the kitchen table, she quickly glanced at her mother for a split second, then looked away. Rose twisted her hands uncomfortably.

"I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower," she said, kissing Flint on the cheek and going upstairs to the guest bedroom that would soon be turned into a nursery.

Flint sat down next to her at the dining room table and Misty felt anxious. She had never much talked to him before, not even at her wedding, and she wasn't quite sure what to say to him.

Luckily, he spoke first. "You remind me so much of Lola."

"What?" She asked, shocked by his statement. "I do?"

Flint nodded. "I always thought women were most beautiful when they were pregnant. Lola was, and still is, a very gorgeous woman. All you girls from Cerulean were always so beautiful."

Misty blushed. "Uh...thanks, Mr. Harrison."

He leaned closer to her, and looked into her eyes, and she could tell he had been drinking. He was drunk, and now Misty could tell. Brock must have known from the moment he walked in the door and that's why he had retreated up to the bedroom so early.

"Your mother is very beautiful, Misty, but you..." he reached out and touched her cheek. "Brock is truly very lucky to have you."

"Th-thank you," she said, becoming a bit nervous. She pulled back and stood up from the chair, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Please," he said, pleadingly. "Please don't be afraid of me. It's just when I look at you...I see Rose the way she should have been, if not for the drugs and the hundreds of men and the hell they put her through. I see you are the type of mother that Lola always was, and the type of mother that Rose should have been, and I'm so sorry you didn't have that in your life."

"Mr. Harrison..." she said.

"Call me Flint," he told her. "You're married to my son. You should be allowed to call me by my first name."

"Flint," she corrected. "It's really alright, though. I-I just have to get upstairs and get the girls a bath."

"Wait!" Flint said, pulling her back and wrapping her up in his arms so tight that Misty couldn't even begin to get out of it. He smelled so strongly of alchohol thatit made her stomach churn. As if morning sickness wasn't bad enough...

Then, she felt it. His hands cupped her rear and he let out a sigh of arousal. Her skin crawled and she pushed him back with all of her strength, slapping him across the face so hard it reverberated throughout the house.

She just stared at him as she wretched herself from his embrace and raced upstairs to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and locking it. She couldn't hide the disgust in her face from her daughter and Holly.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Fiona asked, and Misty undressed them and lifted them both into the tub.

"Nothing, Sweetheart. I'm just tired," she said, and smiled over at Holly. "Let's get you washed up and off to bed, so tomorrow we can get ready to go trick or treating."

Holly looked up at Misty as she scrubbed her back with a washcloth. "Can I stay here forever?"

Misty's expression went soft, and she tried not to show the terror in her face that she felt inside.

"We will see what happens," she said, smiling at her. "Come on, now, lets get your dried off and ready for bed."

"Can we watch a movie?" Fiona asked.

"Yes, you can watch a movie," Misty told them as she dried them both off and helped them into their pajamas, then drained the tub. As the girls rushed out into the hallway, she was hoping she wouldn't run into Flint. The hallway was empty, and by the time she washed the tub out and went into the girl's bedroom, they had already picked out a DVD from Fiona's collection. A Winnie The Pooh Halloween special.

She kissed them both on the head and Holly settled down on the air mattress beneath Fiona's bed and thought about how much she hoped she got to stay here forever, and that she wouldn't have to go back and live with her mother, and those men.

Misty opened the closet, moved the clothes around, and then immediately felt silly for doing it. The girls didn't question her strange behavior. She had been doing it for weeks, and even more so now that Tracey's DNA was found on the dead girl's corpse that was dropped off in their backyard.

She ventured into the hallway and found Brock leaned back in bed, playing Xbox, blasting away zombies on a video game. She curled up into bed beside him and leaned her head on his arm.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine," Brock said, not taking his eyes away from the screen. "Just dad being drunk again after all of these years bothers me. He has been sober for a long time. Nearly 10 years now, and he gets hooked up with Rose and he falls off the wagon again."

Misty had thought about telling Brock that his father had made a pass at her, but now decided against it. She wanted Brock to maintain his relationship with his father, and it already had enough strain on it with him cheating on Lola, she didn't want to be the reason he goes into the guest bedroom and beats his ass.

"I'm sorry, Brock," she said softly, and Brock paused the game and looked at her.

"Don't be," he said. "It's not your fault." He brushed his fingers on her cheek, and pressed his lips softly against hers. It had been a long time since either of them had sex, and Misty found herself responding to the instincts she had been ignoring all week long, because her mind was too preoccupied with fear.

Brock wasn't going to let Flint's drunkeness ruin this for him. He put it out of his mind. He put everything out of his mind. Tracey. His Dad. Misty's mother. Eve Castillo. Everything bad that had happened in the past month didn't matter at this moment, only his wife, who was provocatively straddling him right now, lifting up his tank top and running her hands over his abs.

He unbuttoned her white ruffled blouse, and finally got to look at her breasts, which were teasingly obvious throughout to the day to him. The bra that was concealing him was the next to go, he felt blood rushing between his legs as he took in the sight of her.

She pulled back from him, suddenly. "Let me go lock the door."

"Babe, everyone's asleep," he told her, not wanting her to get off of him, but she was already on her feet and headed over to the door to lock it. He took the opportunity to quickly get out of his pants and tank top, and when she was back at his bedside, he all but pulled her down on top of him, slipping off her sexy red thong, that Brock knew she only wore when she was plannig on having sex with him.

"You were planning this tonight, weren't you?" He asked, throwing them to the ground and feeling her delicious hot heat on his throbbing erection, teasingly.

"I was more like hoping for it," she said, and felt his hands reach around her back and unhook her bra. It fell away and Brock's eyes stayed glued to her chest. It started off as rough sex as their pent up frustration and desire was unleashed, but slowly evolved into sensual love making, with a lot more kissing and touching.

Brock was determined he was going to cherish the moment. The moment when his wife wasn't frightened or worried about what or who was hiding in her house, because she was enjoying him.

...

The closet door was only open a crack, but he was watching them. Just like he had the night on the beach. God, he hated Brock so much. He really wished he would have died with that Kara girl had shot him, but at the same time, he admired him. He got to have amazing sex with the most gorgeous woman in the world. He only wished he had his charm, maybe Misty would have loved him.

Brock had her bent over the bed, and he was behind her, pounding into her so hard the bed was rocking against the wall with every thrust. Her round, perfect breasts were pressed against the matress, and that's where his eyes were focused. He had wanted to sketch it, but he couldn't help but touch himself. She was making the sexiest sounds, the sounds she had always made, but never with him.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself being the one who was making her beg for more.

When he opened them again, she was standing up, by the edge of the bed. Her nude form was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he often liked to draw her naked. Her long red hair curled protectively around her breasts, and her perfect nipples were erect with arousal. Her waist of curvy, and shapely, not too skinny, and her hips were round, full, but her face had always been his favorite part.

She was pretty when they had met, just after he had left Eve, but now she was a beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous woman with long, shiny red hair and blue-green eyes.

Brock kissed her as he thrust inside her again, this time, relaxing a little while she rocked her hips against his. Her breasts bounced with her movements and Tracey felt himself approaching his release. He slipped on a condom, all the while hearing the sounds she was making as she made love to her husband.

His eyes snapped back to the two of them, and he could tell she was ready to reach her orgasm. Misty and Brock both shared their moment of pleasure together, as Brock released himself inside of her, and then she rolled over beside him, content, and feeling safe and satisfied that two of them just shared a very beautiful moment together.

They talked for a bit, turning out the light, and cuddling together for warmth as they fell asleep, not knowing that their very private moment they shared together, was also shared by a third person.

A watcher.

A stalker.

A jealous ex-boyfriend.

...

The next evening, Misty had made dinner a bit earlier than usual, and Brock had made it home from the gym just as he had promised. The girls were excited to finally get to dress up in their costumes and go out. Other children from the neighboring houses were standing on their front porch as their mother's made last minute adjustments to their costumes.

Fiona was Anna, and Holly was Elsa. Brock had even bought an Olaf costume that fit Eevee, though the Pokemon wasn't too fond of it. Rose and Flint agreed to stay at home and give out the candy while Misty and Brock took the girls out around the neighborhood.

The sun was almost setting when they had set out among the other trick or treaters, their neighborhood was very busy. Fiona and Holly had a large bag each, and they took the girls from house to house, up one side of the street, and down the other.

Eevee walked along with them, following closely to Fiona as she went up on porches and through yards. The sun had completely set, and though their neighborhood was lit up by glow sticks, lamp posts, and front porch lights from neighboring houses, Misty felt uneasy.

Both of their bags were very full by the time they were done trick or treating, which had taken a little over an hour. The night was growing colder and colder by the minute, it seemed, and pretty soon Misty's entire body was numb. Brock had slipped his arm around her for warmth, but it hadn't really helped much.

They decided to head home and go through the loot the girls had collected. They trusted everyone in their neighborhood, and everyone knew who Brock was, but they stil liked to make sure everything was safe and throw out any candy that was open and could possibly be tampered with.

Brock thought it was a real shame that they even had to take the precaution, because back when he was younger, his parent didn't have to worry. They were still a good way from the house, when suddenly, a figure dressed in dark gray ran by them, snatching the two large bags of candy from them and bolting away.

Fiona immediately started to cry, and then Holly had followed. Before Misty could even respond, Brock was gone. He was running so fast, he almost ran straight into a parked car, but dodged it and kept going, his feet barely even touching the pavement. The figure in black was never out of his sight.

"Hey!" Brock screamed as he approached the figure, closing in on him. "What the hell are you doing stealing my kid's candy?"

Misty heard his voice echo through the neighborhood and watched as other people stopped and watched Brock fly past them. "It's alright, Fiona," she said, comfortingly. "It's OK, Holly. Daddy's going to get your candy back."

Fiona was hysterical, but Holly hadn't seemed that upset anymore, she seemed more frightened than she was upset about her candy.

"I know, I know," Misty picked her up, and bounced her up and down slightly. Fiona let out another long, loud cry, and choked back as she inhaled air, her face turning red. "It's alright,"

She put her back down on the ground and Eevee licked her face, comfortingly. Then, Misty felt a gloved hand cover her mouth, and her scream was muffled as she was dragged away.

...

Brock tackled the man hard, to the ground, in the Powell's front yard. They were an old couple and kept their house dark on halloween, but there was enough light from their neighborhood's halloween display that Brock could see his face when he pulled off his mask.

He didn't recognize him, but he could tell he was much older, probably in his forties.

"You sick fuck!" Brock overpowered him as he held him down on to the cold ground.

The man reached out to push Brock away, but he wasn't strong enough.

"I'm sorry," the man choked out. "I'm sorry. It was just a prank. I swear."

"Aren't you a little old for pranks?" Brock asked, scooping up the two bags of candy from the ground. "My daughter is fucking four years old. You think this is funny?"

The man stood up and shook his head. "I'm sorry, please don't hurt me..."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I hurt someone as pathetic as you are," Brock said, pushing him hard in the chest. "Go pick on some other kid whose dad can't chase you down and kick your ass!"

He walked away from the guy, and headed back down the street where he had left his wife and with Fiona and Holly, but when he got back, all he saw was Fiona and Holly, huddled on a nearby neighbors porch and looking upset.

The Rockingham's were an old grandparent-type of couple, and Brock walked down in their yard, avoiding the trick or treaters and handed the bags of candy back to his daughter and Holly.

"Where is Misty?" He asked, and Fiona started to cry.

"We don't know," Mr. Rockingham said. "She was standing up at the front of our yard with the kids, and then she just disappeared."

"Shit," Brock said, pulling up his cell phone and speed dialing the police station. "Yea, hey it's Brock Harrison. Misty's went missing..."

A pause, then Brock's frustration became very apparent. "No, she didn't run away! God damn it! She left my daughter and her friend out on the street in the middle of a Halloween crowd. She wouldn't just run away..."

Fiona clung to his leg and looked up at him. "A man took her Daddy!"

Brock's heart sank. The police officer still spoke in his ear. "We have to wait 48 hours before we can file a-"

"You know what? Fuck you, if you won't help me, I'll find her myself," he clicked off the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. "You'll keep an eye on the girls?"

Mrs. Rockingham nodded and Brock took off out of the yard. Whoever it was, couldn't have gotten far, and he bet everything he had that the guy who took the candy was doing it as a distraction. Now, Misty was gone, but he wouldn't rest until he got her back.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Misty's hands were bound in a chair, and they had taken her some place that smelled musty, and molded. It was dark, and only a lamp in the corner cast an uneven glare over this very tiny, dirty room. A cockroach scurried across the floor and Misty felt her skin crawl. She had passed out when the man covered her mouth, probably from chloroform, she had barely even screamed before she blacked out and woke up here.

She immediately tried to struggle out of the rough ropes that bound her hands, but she couldn't break them free. They were bound so tight that her hands were actually becoming numb.

Something moved in the dark corner off to the side, and when the door opened she actually saw it was off the side and led into a kitchen. She was in a garage. She was in someone's house. But where? She wasn't sure if she was out for 5 minutes, or 5 hours, but she knew it was still nighttime outside, but then again, she could have been out for an entire day and not have known it.

A man appeared, and she did not recognize him. He was tall, slender, with hard features and a pointy nose. His eyes were a cold blue, and his bear was a graying white, with heavy wrinkles around his mouth. He smelled of old car oil, cigarettes, and stale beer.

He smiled at her, his wrinkles becoming more apparentt around his mouth.

"Hey there, Pretty Lady," he said, scooting a chair from the corner of the room and sitting in front of her. "Sleep well?"

She wanted to kick him, punch him, even spit in his face, but she was too frightened to get her brain to communicate with her body, all she could manage was a whimper. Oh God! Was she raped? Did he touch her? Her baby! She hoped he didn't do anything to her that would hurt her baby!

"Silent type, eh?" He asked, laughing. "I should have put a gag on you, but I can see you'll keep quiet. Oh, I've been waiting a long, long time to get me a piece of you, honey."

Misty recoiled in disgust as he traced his finger along her cheek. "So pretty. So incredibly beautiful. I'll let you go if you fuck me."

"N-never in your life!" She asserted her voice, and scowled at him.

"Oh, I like it when they resist," he laughed and Misty struggled against the ropes again.

"When my husband finds you, you're as good as fucking dead!" She screamed.

The man stifled a laugh, mockingly. "You think he's going to find you? By the time he does, I will have already gotten what I wanted, and be long gone. If you cooperate, he will find you alive. If you don't...Well, he's a goodlooking guy. He'll remarry before too long."

Misty stood to her feet, which were also bound, but she managed to head but him onto the ground, knocking him against the concrete. The wooden chair she was bound to splintered and cracked, and she felt a surge of excitement. She had to get out here!

The man was already getting up and Misty lay helplessly on the floor, tied to a chair with bound hands and feet. The man approached her and roughly picked her up, she could smell his fetid breath and tried to resist throwing up.

"You want to be a little bitch, huh?" He asked, slapping her across the face so hard, the room spun and she was dizzy. He threw her back down and dropped to his knees next to her.

"I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch!" She screamed at him and he pulled out a red tied ribbon, putting it in her mouth.

"Shut up!" He said. "I'm gonna go get my buddy, he wanted to piece of you, too. So you better not try anything or we won't keep you alive. And please, when I'm fucking you, call me by my name." He said, then in a low voice that gave Misty the most creepiest feeling the world he whispered his name into her ear.

"Charlie."

...

The trick or treaters had dried up hours ago, and Brock knew it was close to midnight. He had been searching everywhere, at every house, behind every tree, he had even gotten in his car and gone to some back alleys, but eventually returned back to the neighborhood.

It was bone-chilling cold tonight, and the moon was hidden by thick clouds. He gathered up a knife and a flashlight, and had tried calling Misty on her cell phone for 60th time, but had received no response. He was getting scared now, and the police wouldn't help him.

Why? They knew who he was. He was Brock Harrison, he practically owned this city, or his parents did anyway, and one day he would too. Why would his beautiful wife, with a four year old daughter and another baby on the way pack up and leave now? That wasn't the way Misty was and they all knew it.

It sickened him, to say the least.

He was at the O'Brien's house, who lived about a block from where his house was. They had said they hadn't seen Misty, but they would help him look. In fact, he had gotten several of his neighbors to search for her, but at half past midnight approached, Brock started to feel hopeless. His daughters weren't asleep when he came back to the Rockingham's.

Mrs. Rockingham had taken them inside, given them some warm soup and let them watch cartoons from their grandchildren's collection of DVD's. Brock was just about to take the girl's back home and have Rose and Flint watch them while he went back out and searched for Misty, but then Eevee appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

She scratched on Brock's leg and looked at him. Brock knelt down to her. "Hey, girl. What's up?"

She squealed a high pitch squeal and ran ahead of him. "Do...Do you know where Misty is?"

She turned back and made sure he followed her. He looked at Mrs. Rockingham. "I'm sorry, I have to go check this out."

"Take your time," They both said and Brock bolted after Eevee, jumping over shrubs on the way as Eevee picked her speed. He had almost lost her, but she had stopped just a few yards away at a house that Brock had believed was vacant. A "For Sale" sign was posted in the front yard and it hadn't been sold. It was dark and needed a lot of work done.

Eevee ran to the door and scratched with her claws, squealing loudly, then looking back at Brock.

Without thinking, Brock ran to the garage door, which was drawn and locked.

"Misty!" He screamed. "Misty!"

She heard him, but she couldn't respond. Oh God, he had found her! She knew he would, but how would he get in? She wasn't sure he could have even seen her if he did peek in through the windows, but when she looked at the windows, she realized they had been covered with black paper.

She heard Eevee's claws at the door. Eevee led him here.

Brock found a large rock that the neighbors lined their tree dirt.

"Misty, back away from the window," he said, and chucked the rock at the window, shattering the glass. Misty cowered from the glass, but the rock had fallen hard back down in the dirt, almost crushing Brock's foot, but he had moved. Eevee ran over to him and Brock climbed up the side of the wall, and in through the the window, knocking the extra glass in the floor.

Her eyes went wide, and he quickly removed the gag and untied her hands and feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and started crying.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! It's OK, I got you now," he said softly. "Shhh. You don't want to make too much noise, OK? Who did this to you?"

"I don't know," Misty said, trying to keep her sobs quiet. "I don't know. I just want to go home."

"Alright, we'll go home," he said. "We'll go home and call the police." He said, keeping her close to him. She was bruised and her face was bloody from where she had been slapped. The garage door was loud as it opened, and just as they made it to the end of the driveway, Brock saw the two men race into the garage.

"Hey!" One of them yelled, and a bullet richocheted of the ground. Misty's eyes went wide and they quickened their pace, racing down the street, taking cover behind cars until they were far enough away that they were sure the men weren't following them anymore.

Misty kept looking behind her, in fear, but Brock kept looking straight ahead. By the time they reach their house, the men were not following them and Brock immediately phoned the police, then picked up his keys and headed out to his truck.

"Stay here, Babe. Don't open the door for anyone except the cops, Alright?" Brock kissed her forehead and she grabbed onto his arm.

"Please don't leave, Brock," she said, tears welling up in her eyes, blinding her.

"I have to go get the kids," Brock told her. "They are at the Rockingham's and it's already so late."

"I'll get them," Rose spoke up, and Brock hesitated for a moment. He didn't trust Rose driving his car, but it was just down the street a bit, and she seemed sober enough tonight, and he didn't want to leave his wife, not even for a second, after what she had been through.

Misty sobbed into his shoulder, her entire body shaking. Brock started a fire to warm her up, and wrapped her in a heavy blanket, only leaving her to go into the kitchen and put on some hot cocoa for her. Just as the water heated up, there was a knock at the door.

"Pewter City Police Department," a voice said, and Brock looked through the peephole. Two uniformed officers stood at the door and he turned around to face Misty.

"It's alright, Honey," he said, twisting the knob. "It's the police."

He let them in, one of the officers was detective Stone.

"Hey, Mr. Harrison," he said, shaking his hand, then his eyes fell on Misty. She looked positively petrified.

"Mrs. Harrison," he said, careful to approach her. He didn't sit down until Brock had come back from the kitchen, carrying a large mug full of hot cocoa for his wife, and he settled down next to her, the warmth from the fire was warming all of them up, and Misty felt herself start to come down off of the anxiety she had been feeling since that gloved hand covered her mouth.

"Are you feeling alright to talk to us?" Detective Stone asked, and Misty looked up at Brock, and he gave her a reassuring smile. The kind of smile that could always calm her down, no matter what. She shook her head, still feeling a bit unsure. Every little noise the house made had her on edge, and she wasn't sure if she could fully relax until Fiona and Holly were back, safe and sound.

"Tell me everything that happened, what you can remember," Officer Stone said, and the other officer pulled out a notepad. Misty told them everything. From the time the man in the black outfit stole the girl's candy, to the time she felt herself being grabbed, and the dark, musty, cold garage she was in.

"Did you get a name of the man who did this to you?" Stone asked, as his partner wrote down details.

"He had blue eyes. A white beard. Lots of wrinkles..." she closed her eyes, and she felt Brock's arm around her. The image of his face came flooding back and she felt fear grip her again, but she felt the warmness of Brock next to her, and reminded herself that she was safe now. Everything was alright.

"His name...was Charlie," she said, finally opening her eyes. Brock felt his mouth go dry.

Charlie...

Why did that name sound so familiar? Why did that name hold signifigance to him?

"He had a partner," Misty spoke up, as more memories came back to her. "But I never saw his face. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

"You're doing fine, Mrs. Harrison," Detective Stone said with a smile.

The front door opened and Misty jumped, sloshing hot cocoa on herself, but she didn't seem to notice. Her anxiety immediately died down when she saw it was just her mother, Fiona and Holly came running up to her, both of them wrapping their arms around her and crawling into her lap.

"That's all the questions we have for right now," Detective Stone said, standing up. "I know it's been a long night and you guys probably need some rest and time with your family. We're going to investigate the house and keep extra patrol on the neighborhood."

"Thank you," Misty said, holding both Holly and Fiona close to her. Brock showed them out of the house and then joined his wife back on the couch. Rose had taken a seat in the chair by the window.

"Honey, what happened?" Rose asked her.

"I was..." she looked at the girls, then back at her mother. "I was taken by a very bad man, but Brock rescued me."

"Just like a princess?" Fiona asked, smiling and Misty smiled back.

"Just like a princess."

Brock grinned at them. "Why don't you girls go upstairs and wash up? It's very late, way past your bedtime."

"But Daddy," Fiona argued, but Brock pointed towards the stairs.

"I'll be up in a minute," he promised and Holly obeyed him, not arguing like Fiona did. She wanted to make Brock happy. She hoped maybe then he could become her dad.

Once the girls disappeared up the stairs, Brock sat back down next to Misty and pulled her close, letting the fire warm them.

"Rose, Misty said the man who attacked her was named Charlie," he said, and he watched Rose's expression turn grim.

"Charlie..." she repeated. "Are you sure?"

Misty nodded. "I'm sure. Why? Is something wrong?" She looked from Brock to her mother, back to Brock again.

"Charlie was the name of the man I was with...the man who got me into drugs," Rose said, shamefully, looking towards the fire. He had always said that he would find me again some day."

"I think he's the one who attacked Fiona and Holly at Eve's house," Misty said, tears stinging her eyes again. "I just have this feeling...He was so creepy!"

Brock kissed her softly on the cheek. "Come on, Babe. Let's go up to bed, alright? It's been a long night."

Misty wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed next to her husband, so she didn't protest. However, Rose Vaughn would not sleep. She grabbed her keys from her purse, once her daughter and son-in-law disappeared up the stairs for the night, and stepped out into the cold night, her breath visible from her lips like a puff of smoke.

Her red BMW started up, despite the cold, and she wiped away the cold frost forming on her window. She knew where she was going, and she knew who she was going to find there. She just didn't know what she was going to do once she got there.

...

Rose arrived at the house with For Sale sign in front of it. The yard was unmowed, no one had lived in this house since earlier in the year, and none of the neighbors bothered to keep up with it. She got out of her BMW, and went to the front door knocking.

She didn't get a reply right away, but she knew Charlie, and she knew he was slow and old. He was in his mid-forties, but looked like he was near sixty. She heard a shuffling around in the house behind the door, and she instantly recognized him, though he had aged, when he answered the door.

His eyes went wide, and she could tell he was drunk. Probably high.

"Rose..." he said, his drunken gaze turning into a smile. "Come on in."

She did, stepping over the treshhold, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes hit her in the face. The house was laid out exacly like Brock's house was, but where Brock's chandalier in the entrance hallway was, there was only a bare lightbulb. No furniture adorned the living room, just pillows piled up in a corner.

No big screen television. Just a blank wall. No fire place to keep the house warm, just cold emptiness. She started to shiver.

"Charlie, you attacked my daughter," Rose said softly, and Charlie laughed and shook his head.

"She was a feisty one," He pulled out a can of beans and popped it open with a pair of keys. "Want some?"

"No," Rose responded, unzipping her purse.

He just shrugged and began eating. "She's a beauty though. Just like you. That daughter of hers, too..." he shook his head and grinned, a tooth missing in his fetid mouth.

Rose felt something rip through her and she slipped her hand on the purse, feeling the cold metal of her gun. Brock had said he didn't want it in the house, she knew he hated guns.

He was a no-violence type of liberal man. He had always been so, he was well-educated, level-headed, and good-looking. He hated violence, and she knew her daughter felt the same way, especially since that time she had shot Tracey with his own gun, she had been set against the things since then. But Rose had always liked guns. She liked the weight of them in her hands. The cool metal on her palm.

She was going to use her gun, and she was going to use her gun on charlie.

"How do you know what her daughter looks like?" Rose finally asked, the gun warming in her palm.

He winked at her. "I give cocaine to Eve Castillo," he said, holding a finger up to his lips. His nails were yellowed, long and dirty and Rose felt disgusted. "Eve don't have enough money to pay me, so she lets me have her way with her daughter. Anyway, about a week ago, she had two girls in there. And I knew the moment I saw Fiona she was your granddaughter."

Rose pulled out the gun, pointing it straight at him.

"You sick Bastard!" She yelled, and Charlie dropped his can of beans.

"Hey, whoa. Whoa! What are you doing baby?" He asked, holding up his hands. "I ain't never raped a child, alright? I wasn't going to rape her. I just wanted to look at her. Since when is that a crime?"

"That is my granddaughter!" Rose snarled at him. "And Misty, she is my baby! You were going to rape her tonight, weren't you Charlie?"

"I was going to seduce her, not rape her," he countered, backing up against the kitchen wall. The kitchen was empty, no kitchen island of dining table like there was in Brock's kitchen.

"She wouldn't sleep with you," Rose said, her eyes glowering at him as she held the heavy gun in her hands. "Why would she want a low life like you when she's married to Brock Harrison? He's handsome, rich, and practically owns this entire city. Why would she want you?"

Charlie swallowed hard. "Rose, let's just...talk about this, alright?"

"I'm done talking, Charlie," she said, holding the gun to his temple. She saw him tremble with fear. "You will never have the chance to go after my daughter or my granddaughter again."

A shot rang out into the night. A sound lost to all the neighbors who slept in their warm beds in the black of night. Only Fiona noticed the lights of her grandmother's BMW as she pulled up outside, and watched her stuff her gun back in her purse.

...

Misty had slept surprisingly well. She didn't think she'd get a wink of sleep that night, but as soon as she fell into bed, felt Brock's weight and warmth beside her, sleep came very easily. Brock didn't sleep so well, though. He had tried, and he had even dozed off some, but he couldn't relax. His adrenaline had been pumping so hard just a few hours ago, and now that it wasn't anymore, he felt so exhausted, but his mind just wouldn't let him sleep.

He heard the door open downstairs and he felt hid body tense up. He had locked the door. He knew he had locked the door! Normally, any other night he would have assumed his father stepped outside for a smoke, but not tonight. He grabbed the metal baseball bat by the closet, careful not to wake Misty up.

He snuck downstairs, and heard someone walk into the entrance hall. As he turned the corner, ready to strike, he saw that it was Rose and he immediately stopped.

"Oh, My Goodness!" Rose said, clutching her chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, Honey."

"I'm...I'm sorry," he stammered, suddenly feeling stupid. "I'm just paranoid."

"You don't have anything to be afraid of anymore," she told him, patting him on the shoulder. "I took care of it."

"W-what did you do?" Brock asked, and Rose patted her purse, tapping the leather with her perfectly manicured nails.

"Nobody messes with my child or my grandchild," she smiled at him and went up the stairs. Brock knew what she had done. She had shot Charlie, and now the bastard was dead.

He detested violence. He didn't like guns. But he also didn't like pedophiles, and rapists. And he couldn't help but smile just a little bit, knowing that one less scum was on the earth tonight.

...

Fiona awoke, hearing the sharp sound of a car door slam shut. She had always associated that sound with her father getting home from work, but it was dark outside, and the middle of the night. She lifted the blinds on her windows and saw her grandmother Rose walking up the sidewalk that led to the front door.

She stuffed something shiny and metal into her purse and then walked into the house. She heard footsteps in the hallway, and then heard her grandmother shout, and the muffled voices of her grandmother and father.

She heard the sound of her grandmother's heels on the hardwood floor in the hallway, then the closing of a door and then silence. She settled back down in her blanket, pulling the extra blanket her mother had given her because of the cold night, up to her chin as well.

Holly was sound asleep, and hadn't woken up through anything.

Fiona closed her eyes and felt her grogginess try to take over, but something startled her awake again. It wasn't from outside, this time, it was from inside the house. Inside her room.

Her eyes shot towards her closet. In there.

The door to her closet opened, and she saw half of a man's face poke out, but he had put a finger to his lips. A scream was caught in her throat, and she couldn't move. The man opened the closet more, and smiled at her as he emerged from it.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered, and Fiona's eyes went wide. It was the first time the man in her closet had talked. She had seen him before, but he never spoke. He just smiled at her, then retreated back into the closet, and when her dad had come in and searched it, he was gone. It must have been a dream, or her imagination.

Fiona remembered her parents were watching something on television about ghosts. Maybe this man was a ghost.

"W-who are you?" Fiona's voice sounded very tiny in the big empty room. Eevee was awake now, and her fur was standing on end, emmitting a low, vicious growl at the man.

"I'm a friend," he said, creeping closer to her. "An old friend of your mommy's actually. And I'm Holly's daddy."

Fiona gasped. "Holly's daddy?"

"Shhh," He said, putting his finger to his lips. "It's late. Everyone is supposed to be asleep."

Fiona put a hand over her mouth, and she felt the man sit on the edge of her bed, his weight pulling the bed down and pushing her up. Eevee growled viciously and snapped at the man, but he slapped Eevee in her face.

"Don't slap my Eevee!" Fiona yelled.

"I said be quiet!" He demanded, hearing Eevee whimper in defeat. The Pokemon rushed towards the door, struggling to open it.

"Do you know that I love your mommy very much?" He asked, and Fiona shook her head.

"My daddy loves my mommy," she said, curling her knees up to her chest. She didn't trust this man. Not at all. She could tell he was a bad man, and her parents had always told her never to talk to strangers, but as long as he didn't touch her, she'd be safe.

"I love your mommy more," he said, his lips curling into a smile. A smile that sent fear straight into Fiona's heart. "My name is Tracey. What is your name?"

"F-fiona," she stammered, blinking, and her dry eyes had teared up, just from staring too long.

"Your mommy loved me so very much," Tracey said to her, and Fiona clutched onto her charmander doll. "But your daddy stole her. Don't you know it's bad to steal?"

Fiona nodded. "You shouldn't take things that aren't yours. That's what my daddy always says."

"Funny he should say that," Tracey said, his voice taking on a tone that scared Fiona, then he smiled again. "Do you know where I've been living at Fiona?"

She shook her head.

He simply pointed towards the closet. "How would you like it if I became your daddy?"

Fiona stared at him, wide-eyed. "But I like my daddy."

"Ah," Tracey waved through the door. "But I'm a better daddy. You would love me. And I already love your mommy more than your daddy does."

"But..."

Tracey's face was right to hers, and his warm breath blew across the side of her face.

"I'd kill for her."

Fiona froze and a loud scream errupted from her throat. Like a ninja, Tracey immediately jumped back into the closet and no sooner had he closed the door, Brock and Misty were at the door. Holly was now groggily waking up.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Misty rushed over to her bedside and sat down.

"There is a man in my closet," she said, and Brock had grabbed his baseball bat, he was still paranoid, even though he knew Rose had killed off the pedophile, and they had an alarm system.

"Honey, I've always checked your closet," Brock said, sitting down on the bed next to Fiona.

Fiona's tears grew heavier. "He was in here!" She demanded, and Eevee scratched at the closet, looking back at Misty and Brock.

Misty watched as Brock got up and approached the closet, and she held Holly and Fiona close to her. Brock checked through the clothes, even getting down on his knees and moving around her shoes that were lined up on the floor. Nothing.

"Sweety, there is nothing in here," Brock said, even so much as going into the closet himself and hiding himself behind her clothes. He was still clearly visible. Every corner of her closet was checked before he stepped out.

"I saw him, daddy," Fiona said, as Misty placed her back into bed and pulled the blankets around her chin.

"I think you just had a bad dream," Misty said, kissing her forehead. "We've all had a rough night."

Eevee jumped back on the bed and laid down, and Misty patted her head. "Keep the girls safe, OK, Eevee?"

The bedroom door closed and Fiona looked at her closet. The man was in there. She knew it. Holly hadn't seen him, she didn't even wake up, but he was in there, and he had come out, and sat on her bed, right where he mother sat.

She left her light on, and though Holly had fallen back asleep, Fiona couldn't sleep and for the first time in her little life, she actually watched the sunrise. The horrors from last night were quickly washed away in the blaze of the sun.

...

 _December 2006_

 _Brock arrived home just a few days before Christmas. Pewter City was always beautiful this time of year. There was usually snow on the ground, and the town was decorated in different kinds of lights that would reflect off the snow. It was awfully cold when he arrived, but he managed to tolerate the rough, cold winds long enough to pull two large bags of gifts from out of the back of his truck._

 _He was 19 now, and it had been over a year since he had been home. He had been traveling all around Kanto with Misty and Ash, and his heart felt a twinge of pain when he thought about Misty. God, he really did miss her._

 _It was funny, because he thought he was homesick sometimes when he was traveling around with the two of them, but now that he was home, he was now longing to be back with the two of them, with Misty. It was no matter, he would be back with them soon, after the Holidays, and then Ash would work towards his last two badges and they would be on their way to the Pokemon league._

 _Misty had went back to Cerulean and Ash had went back to Pallet. They all agreed to meet in Pallet Town and take a boat to Cinnabar Island, where he would face Blaine at the first of the year._

 _Forest jumped on the back of the couch and looked out the window. "Brock's home!"_

 _Suzy smiled. "Brock's home! Mommy! Brock's home!"_

 _Lola came around the corner, drying her hands on her apron as she watched her oldest son come through the front door, carrying in two huge sacks like he was Santa clause._

 _He was immediately tackled by his younger siblings._

 _"Children!" Lola scolded them, trying to sound tough, but still sounding just as soft and as gentle as if she was singing them to sleep. Brock had always loved that about his mother. She was so comforting, even if she didn't want to be._

 _"Children! Let your brother get in the door, first!" She said, louder, but they hadn't listened. Brock just grinned and wrapped them all up in his arms._

 _"Alright, guys. Let me move, alright?" He asked, finally able to push him and his bags of presents through the front door and closing the cold wind behind him out._

 _"You got us presents?" His little brother, Toko asked._

 _"Have at it, Pipsqueaks," Brock said, watching them tear into the bags. He hadn't bought them specific presents, just a bunch of them, that they could go through, pick out what they wanted, and even trade. It was a tradition he had done for them back when he was the one raising them, and it was something he had kept up._

 _Finally, he hugged his mother, and she closed her eyes, taking in the scent of him. Oh, she had missed him so much!_

 _"Hey Momma," he said, softly. "How are you?"_

 _"Tired. Busy," she grinned. "Oh, look how handsome you have gotten!"_

 _"Pft," he laughed. "Tell that to the ladies. I can't barely even get a girl to talk to me."_

 _"That's because you're so handsome they are shy," Lola reassured him, but he didn't believe her and he gave her a lopsided grin that told her he didn't believe her._

 _"How are things around here?" He asked, and Lola immediately knew he was asking how things were with Flint._

 _"Better," she said, wiping down the counter. "Flint still goes to his AA meetings once a week on Wednesday nights. He's running the gym. Says if you ever come back and settle down with a family of your own, the gym is yours."_

 _"Yea, but you know I'm not really into being a gym leader," Brock said, and Lola's eyes sparkled at him._

 _"Honey, you are so talented, and smart," she said. "The Pokemon League would kill to have you work in one of these gyms. Your father is trying, but he can't get us as credited as we were when you were running things."_

 _"I doubt I'll ever settle down," Brock said, grabbing a soda from the fridge and cracking it open. He took a large sip, and coughed as his parched throat was saturated in carbonated, sugary goodness. Lola smiled._

 _Just then Flint entered the room, and Brock felt the tension in the air. His father's eyes were clear, and he even smiled. He really had quit drinking, hadn't he?_

 _"Hey Son," he said, pulling him into a strong hug and patting his back, rather roughly. "Wasn't expecting you in so early. Thought you weren't coming until tomorrow."_

 _"They are calling for a bad storm tomorrow, so I thought I'd come in early," he said, and then he gestured to the living room. "I gave the kids their big bag of presents."_

 _Flint shook his head. "So you found yourself a wife yet? A Pewter City heir or heiress has to be born soon. I'm sure you don't want to run the gym when you are 70 years old, do ya?"_

 _Brock felt his face heat up and he flushed. "No wife yet. Not even a girlfriend..."_

 _"Well, you're interested in someone ain't ya?" Flint asked, winking at him. "Don't tell me you'd traveled all over this state and haven't been a pretty young thing that's at least caught your eye."_

 _His mind immediately went back to Misty. Hell, what was he kidding? His mind never left her._

 _A grin formed at his lips and Lola giggled. "Oh, I knew it! My oldest son has a crush on someone."_

 _"Alright, alright," he said, plopping down in one of the kitchen island stools. "There is this one girl. She travels with us. When I left with Ash, he had this girl with him, and I thought she was cute, but over the past year, she's gotten really pretty."_

 _"What's her name?" Lola asked._

 _"Misty," Brock replied, and Lola's smile faltered, but she maintained it. Misty. No, it couldn't be Rose Vaughn's daughter...She would be sixteen now. The little girl she saw at the convention, when she had caught Rose and Flint in that tent..._

 _She silently cut up celery and didn't say anything else._

 _"Sounds like a cutie," Flint said, winking at him. "She interested in you?"_

 _"I don't know," Brock said, rubbing the back of his head. "I think she might be into Ash."_

 _Flint made a scoffing sound and shook his head. "That dude was a wimp, and you gave him that badge. He didn't win. If she's interested in that little dweeb and not you, then you should probably put interest in someone else."_

 _Lola scowled at him. "Flint, if Brock likes the girl, then he can like whoever he wants. The girl might not be interested in him now, but then again, she might be. You like her, alot, Brock?"_

 _Brock's eyes locked on his mother's. He knew they still fought sometimes, and he knew it was probably really bad when he wasn't here._

 _"I like her a whole lot," Brock said, smiling. "I mean, she's so beautiful. She's got these beautiful blue eyes, like the color of the ocean, and her hair it's like silk and the most beautiful shade of red I've ever seen."_

 _Lola was positive this was Rose Vaughn's daughter now._

 _"Sounds like you're in love," Flint said, picking up a handful of M &M's out of a bowl. "Have you told her how you feel?"_

 _"No," Brock said, shaking his head. "I get rejected all the time, the last thing I want is for Misty to reject me. So I don't flirt with her, or anything...I mean, I kind of flirted with her a few months ago, but I don't think she really picked up on it."_

 _"Young girls won't," Flint said, shaking his head. "You gotta just grab her and kiss her, be a man, show her how you feel."_

 _"But don't be rough with her," Lola cut in, tossing the celery into a pot. "You don't want the girl to think you're desparate. Just romance her."_

 _He blushed. "I can't believe I am talking to you guys about this."_

 _"Oh, c'mon," Flint said, pushing on his shoulder. "How do you think you got here? Your mother and I know a lot about romance."_

 _"And sex," Lola added._

 _"Mom..." Brock said, curling his nose in disgust._

 _"What?" She asked. "We have 11 children!"_

 _"I know, it's just..." he put up his hand. "I'm about ready to eat dinner."_

 _"Have you...uh..." Flint winked at him. "You know, done the deed?"_

 _Brock looked at his father. "Oh, c'mon, I don't want to answer that..." He looked at his mother. "Mom..."_

 _"Honey, you are 19 years old. Don't be embarassed. It's natural, it's healthy. We just want to know what's going on in your life," She said, smiling at him sweetly._

 _Brock readjusted in his seat uncomfortably. "Not with Misty, no. I had sex a couple of times when...when I was here, running things myself. Some girl, down the street. She's probably not here anymore, but it never went anywhere. At the rate I'm going, I'll never get laid again."_

 _"Sure, you will," Flint said, laughing heartily. "You're a Harrison. The ladies love us Harrison men. Can't get enough of 'em. Go up to Cerulean City. Hot girls everywhere in that city. That's where your mother is from."_

 _"Misty's from Cerulean," Brock said, looking at his parents. "She's the gym leader, or she was. Anyway, I think her sisters run it down since she's been traveling with us."_

 _"Well, there you go," Flint said, mussing his hair as he passed him. "Already off to a good start. I'm going outside for a smoke. You want one, Son?"_

 _"I don't smoke, but thanks," Brock said, and Flint shrugged, put a cigarette in his mouth and stepped out the door to the back porch._

 _Lola looked at him, just the sound of the kids fighting over the gifts drited through the house._

 _"Dad's change a lot," Brock said, looking out at the back door that led to the porch. "He never used to be so cheerful or talkative."_

 _"The AA meetings are helping. Social engagement with the family is one of the things they heavily promote," Lola said, smiling as she cooked. "And he's really trying."_

 _"He hasn't hurt you...?" Brock asked, helping his mother set the table._

 _"No, he hasn't hit me in years," Lola told him. "I think he's really back to the old Flint I used to know. The Flint I knew when you were just a little boy. You remind me so much of the way he used to be, Brock. But your daddy's demons won't get to you like they did to him. I know that. You are going to make some woman a very happy wife one day."_

 _"Maybe Misty?" He asked, grinning and blushing like a school boy._

 _"Maybe," Lola replied, kissing him on the cheek. "Go get your brothers and sisters washed up and down here to eat. Dinner will be ready in 10."_

 _..._

Brock saw the decline his father was on. It was Saturday night. A particularly cold night, and Brock had stoked up a nice fire in the living room, and Fiona and Holly had fallen asleep about an hour ago, beside them on the couch.

Carefully, Misty lifted Fiona and Brock lifted Holly up, carried them upstairs, and placed them in their beds before returning downstairs to watch more television. Normally, they would have both agreed on a horror film, but lately, they had been steering more towards romantic comedies with sexual humor, because they had enough horror in their lives in the past couple of months.

But it hadn't really mattered what they were watching, because Brock soon found himself unable to control his hands, and he leaned over, kissing Misty's neck, pulling her closer to him underneath the blanket.

"Brock, what if Rose and Flint come home?" She asked, protesting as much as she could, but finding herself unable to resist him much longer.

"That's why we have the blanket," he laughed, and captured her lips in a senual kiss. "We can cover up if we need to. The kids are asleep..."

"It's risky," she said, looking at him in pale blue glow of the television. He was so handsome, and she knew she wanted nothing more than to make love to him.

"That's what makes it so sexy," he laughed and and dipped his hands beneath the denim of jeans, sliding them off and onto the floor. He groaned softly as he felt her own hand playing with the button of his jeans, and then softly rubbing his very hard erection.

He quickly pushed them off and into the floor. He pulled her blouse off over her head and tossed it into the darkness of the living room. She pulled the blanket up around him and looked up at him, as he cupped her breasts in his hands, loving the soft, firm feel of them in his palm.

"Are you sure we shouldn't go upstairs?" She asked, looking up into his dark eyes, full of lust and love.

He smiled at her, and his fingers found their way beneath the lace of her bra, teasing her nipple with his thumb, and she let out a moan, her mind immediately forgetting everything else. Her hand found his hard, pulsating erection, stroking him as he played with her breasts and made love to her in his kiss, touching her in a way that he could not with just his hands.

She felt him slide inside of her, her own arousal making it so easy that a growl of lust escaped the back of his throat. She was only vaguely aware of the television still being on, the volume up barely above audible.

"You feel so fucking good, Brock," she moaned out breathlessly as he moved in a rhythm against her, feeling himself reaching his own climax, way too soon. He steeled himself, pushing deep inside her and kissing her softly.

"I want to make you come for me," he said, powerfully thrusting inside of her and sliding his hand between them, rubbing her gently.

She arched her back towards him, and he smiled, watching her enjoy the pleasure he was giving her. Her beautiful red hair spilled around her shoulders, and clung to her skin from the sweat that had collected there. It was such an erotic sight that Brock almost lost control right there, hearing her panting and moaning beneath him, feeling her grip his own pulsating heat as she neared her climax.

Neither of them heard the front door open, and they were only vaguely aware of their parents' presence as they walked into the living room. Misty's eyes went wide as she saw Flint standing there, and then Brock jumped off of her when he saw Rose.

"Oh my God!" Misty grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself.

Rose just laughed. "Sorry, we didn't realize anyone would be down here...well, at least not down here doing that..." She smiled, and winked.

Brock's erection was instantly killed, and he covered up with the blanket, reaching around for his pants.

"Sorry, we thought you wouldn't be back for a while," Brock said, getting dressed from underneath the blanket.

Flint stumbled over to the chair and sat down, and Brock could instantly tell he was drunk. Misty found her panties, discarded on the couch and she slipped them on under the blanket, hiding herself from Flint's view. Why was he staring at her?

Had he seen her naked?

It was an akward feeling seeing your father-in-law when you are on the verge of orgasm, that's for sure.

Brock stood up once he was sure Misty had gotten dressed, and tried to gather as much dignity as she could while trying to put her bra on without the blanket falling down to reveal herself to Flint. He had just changed back into his jeans, not bothering with his shirt, and Rose certainly wasn't complaining about that.

He followed her into the kitchen. "Rose, did my dad drink tonight?"

"Only a couple of beers," Rose said, waving him off. "He had a couple shots of Kentucky Gentlemen, but that was at least a couple hours ago."

"Rose, you do know that he's a recovering alcoholic, don't you?" He asked, feeling very angry. "He can't drink. He's fallen right off the wagon again."

"He's only having a little fun," Rose said, making herself a glass of water. "It's been ten years. He can reward himself, can't he?"

"No, he can't," Brock said sternly. "He's an alcoholic. He can't have anything to drink. He gets very violent and pushy when he's drunk. He almost killed my mom when I was a kid because he was so stinkin' drunk, he didn't even know who any of us were."

Rose just looked at him, her eyes examining his body.

"We're going to bed anyway," she said, sliding a finger up and down his chest, and he moved away quickly.

"Stop it," Brock said, immediately regretting that he hadn't bothered with a shirt. He walked back into the living room to find Misty was seated on the far side of the couch away from Flint, and he was...leering at her. Staring at her, like she was a centerfold in a magazine or something.

Brock's anger hit a new high and Misty felt him grab her around the wrist.

"You dressed?" He asked, and Misty looked up at her husband, nodding her head. He gently yanked her up and gathered the blanket. "Come on, let's go to bed."

He glared at his father, and Flint just smiled, bringing a glass of water, or what he assumed was water, but could have been vodka up to his lips.

Brock closed the door to the bedroom and paced the room. Misty sat down on the bed, trying to overcome the embarassment she felt.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he said, softly, sitting next to her on the bed. "I shouldn't have let my dick think for me. I should have at least brought you up here. My father is a god damn pervert!"

"No, Brock, it's OK," She said, but Brock shook his head, cutting her off.

"It's not OK," He said. "He looks at you like he used to look at my mom when he was drunk. Like she was some kind of sex toy. That's how he sees all women. That's how he sees your mom."

"That's how my mom sees herself..." Misty said, flatly.

"True," Brock agreed. "But you deserve respect, and I'm sorry I didn't think about that tonight. I was just horny."

She looked over at him, and he looked like he really wanted to beat himself up over it. She scooted closer to him and rest her head on his bare shoulder. He was so strong, warm, and always smelled so good. Then, she remembered the night Flint had made a pass at her, and she wasn't sure if it had even been a pass, maybe just a drunkened hug.

"Flint grabbed my ass a couple weeks ago," Misty said, hearing herself say the words was bizarre.

"What?" Brock asked, pulling back and looking at her. "I'm going to kill him."

"No, Brock, please," she grabbed his arm, knowing that she wasn't near strong enough to hold him back. "He...He was drunk." She stammered.

"I don't care, I'm still going to kill him. He's not going to sexually harass you and get away with it!" He ripped himself from her embrace and marched out into the hallway. He quickly made his way down the stairs, but about halfway down he heard Rose call out.

 _"Oh, Flint! Yes! Yes! Yes!"_ Her lustful cries filled the entire house, it seemed like, and he could see his father had her bent over the very same couch he had just had his own wife on. Fuck! This was his house! That was his couch! If he couldn't have sex on it, then nobody else could either!

His anger only deepened, and as much as it disgusted him to see his father humping his mother-in-law like some horny animal, he made his way over, and before Flint could even realize what was happening through his drunken and sex-hazed mind, Brock landed a punch to the side of his face, sending him flying into a table.

Wedding pictures, baby pictures of Fiona, and the lamp went tumbling to the floor noisily. Rose shreiked loudly, and Brock stood over Flint, who was naked, drunk and trying to get up.

"Get up, you old drunk fucker!" Brock screamed, and by this time, Misty was on the staircase, watching, tears forming in her eyes. She shouldn't have said anything...she should have just let it go, but the way he was leering at her had made her uncomfortable. She was pretty sure he had seen her naked, if even for a second.

"What the hell, Brock?" Flint asked, getting up and wiping blood from his mouth. "You about knock my damn tooth out."

Brock grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "You think you can cheat on mom like you did, then come into my house and ask me to let you live here while you get your shit together, and then you come home drunk and fondle my wife?" He pushed him against the wall.

"I didn't fondle no one," Flint said, pushing back on him, but he had seen this his age was getting to him and his son was now a lot stronger than he was, and he could see the fury in his son's eyes. He remembered when Brock had beat him up when he was teenager for hitting his mother, and fear suddenly gripped Flint. What would he do to him for touching his wife?

"She said you did," Brock said, refusing to let him go. "You better not be calling her a liar. She's my wife. She's the mother of my children! She's pregnant, for fuck's sake! You don't treat women like fucking objects! Not in my house you don't!"

"Can I please put some pants on?" Flint asked, and Rose handed him his jeans. Brock released him, and then he heard Misty crying on the stairs. His anger subsided at that moment and looked over at her.

"Honey, go back to bed," he told her, but she stood to her feet instead, shaking her head. She ran towards him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Please don't do anything stupid, Brock," she begged him. "I don't want you to go to jail or anything."

Rose looked at Flint as he buckled his jeans. "Did you really fondle my daughter?"

"Rose, I was probably drunk," Flint said, shaking his head. "I do things I don't mean to do sometimes when I'm drunk."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't drink!" Brock raised his voice, but his arms stayed around Misty as he tried to comfort her and calm her down, reassuring her he wasn't going to do anything else to his father. "Get out, Dad. I want you out and I want you out tonight."

Flint threw up his hands. "Fine. I'll get bags and I'll go stay at the motel."

"You got 10 minutes," Brock growled at him as he watched his father ascend the staircase, and then his eyes fell on Rose.

"Is it true, Honey?" Rose asked. "Did he really touch you?"

"He hugged me one night, he was a little drunk, and he touched my butt. It was really awkward and I didn't tell Brock about it, because I knew this would happen," she dried her tears. "I just didn't want any trouble."

"It's no trouble," Brock told her, pulling her back to look her in the eyes. "You can tell me anything. Absolutely anything. Don't be afraid of that, OK?"

She nodded her head and kissed him. Flint came down with his bags and Rose's eyes locked with his.

"I'll call you, Rose," He said, and she nodded. The front door slammed, and Misty went over to pick up the pictures. Nothing was broken, amazingly.

"I'll get that, Misty," Brock said, leaning down and picking up the pictures. One was of their wedding, and another was of Fiona when she was about three months old. Brock put everything back on the table and apologized to Misty again before they headed off to bed, and said goodnight to Rose.

She followed up after them, going into the guest bedroom which she had shared with Flint for the past month or so, and now it was empty. Half of the drawers were empty, the side of the bed where he lay was still rumpled from the night before, but was empty.

The closet, where half of his clothes and shoes were hung and lined up, was now empty. Except...it wasn't empty. Rose walked over to the closet, slowly turned the golden knob, and peeked in.

"Are you awake?" She whispered. "I really need to talk to you."


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

He crawled out of the closet, his eyes adjusting to the bright bedside lamp that was on in the room. It was a dim light, but to him, it was blinding. He spent his days in darkness, hiding behind the clothes, and inside the walls. The only time he saw light was when he would sneak in and watch Fiona, or his own daughter, Holly, sleeping.

Or when he would watch Misty getting dressed in her bedroom, or when she was having sex. He had overheard their conversation about her being pregnant, and he had hoped it wasn't true, but Misty was a small woman, and the baby weight was beginning to show now, but she was still so beautiful. As beautiful as she had ever been.

Tracey's eyes adjusted to the light and he looked at Rose. The door to the bedroom was locked, though they were both certain everyone wouldn't be out again until morning. The kids were definitely asleep, even through Brock and Flint's fight.

"Did you hear about what happened?" She told him, and he nodded his head.

"I'm sorry you lost Flint," Tracey Sketchit's voice was rough and scratchy, and Rose offered him a sip of her water. He had gulped it down in two large gulps. It had been a couple days since he was able to sneak out and get any food or water.

"I'm sorry," Tracey said, handing her back an empty glass. "It's been a few days since I've been able to get down to the kitchen. And you haven't brought me anything since Tuesday."

"I'm sorry," she apologized immediately. "I'm afraid something terrible has come up, and it's not Flint being kicked out, which I knew would happen eventually."

"What is it?" Tracey asked. "I know about Misty's pregnancy." He said, remembering when Rose had told him Misty was going to have another baby. He hated Brock even more than he already did. He hated watching the two of them have sex, but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It only fueled his fantasy that the baby could be his own, like he had wanted since the moment he laid eyes on her, when she was out on the beach with Brock, and he heard her moans of ecstacy.

His jealousy had turned into hatred, and he truly loved Misty. He never meant to hurt her, he never meant to slap her across the face when he had found out she still loved Brock when they had returned to pallet town to meet up with him again. He never meant to snap and lose it when he heard them having sex in the shower together in Delia Ketchum's house, and then the next day trick her to come to the Xanadu nursery, where he tried to rape her, but almost lost his own life because Brock had almost killed him.

He didn't meant to hold a gun to her head, or shoot Gary Oak in the abdomen when he had figured out that they had slept together, behind his back. But he had meant it when he held Brock down on the kitchen floor and wanted to choke the life out of him for sleeping with his girlfriend.

His girlfriend. Tracey's mind echoed for a long moment.

His girlfriend.

Misty was his girlfriend, and she should have been his wife. Right now. He should be the man who was in there with her, holding her, keeping her safe from the dangers out there. Keeping her warm from the cold night. Making love to her every night. Having a baby with her, again.

This should have been his family.

Even his own daughter loved Brock. That bastard stole everything!

"Tracey?" Rose asked, handing him a fresh glass of water. He snapped out of his thoughts, he was so deep in his own head that he hadn't noticed Rose had left the room to get him a glass of water. He drink half of it immediately.

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "I was thinking...I do a lot of that lately."

"Tracey," Rose said, inviting him to sit on the bed next to her. "I have something important to tell you and you aren't going to like it."

He looked at her. "What is it?"

"Charlie is dead," she said, and she saw his face go pale.

"My...Dad? He's..."

Rose nodded. "I'm sorry, Tracey, but I had no choice. I had to do it. He kidnapped Misty, and he was going to rape her, and he was going to hurt Fiona, and...he had already hurt Holly before. If I hadn't, and he linked the police back to me, I could be in a lot of trouble. You could go back to prison, or that awful hospital they had you in."

Tracey's eyes welled up with tears. "I don't want to go back there."

"That's why I took care of it," Rose said, kissing his hand. "Charlie won't be talking anymore, but I'm sorry I had to kill him. I know you loved your father."

"No, I didn't..." he cried, sucking back air as he stuffed his face into her shoulder. "He used to abuse me. I didn't want children, because I was afraid I was like him, so when Eve got pregnant, I ran and...then I saw Misty out there on that beach in Valencia. And the next day at the Tiki bar, I couldn't stop thinking about her face, or her body, the way she moved, the way she talked."

Rose's eyes locked on with his. "Charlie hurt you...I'm sorry, Tracey. I didn't know that happened to you."

He dried his tears and she handed him a tissue. Then she smiled and brushed the hair back from his face. He was so skinny and pale, from weeks of not having proper food or a decent meal. When Rose had helped him escape from the hospital, she had told him exactly where they could stay and no one would discover him, but she wasn't able to provide him with food and water like she had planned and he had lost a lot of weight because of it.

She went over to his purse and pulled out a styrofoam box. It was filled with steak, bread, mashed potatoes and green beans.

"This is for you," she said, handing him a plastic fork. He immediately started to eat it, almost choking as he did so, and Rose told him to slow down. "Don't eat so fast. No one's going to take it from you."

He swallowed hard. "Brock takes everything from me."

"Well he's not going to take this," Rose reassured him and he slowed down just a tad, but his hunger was making it hard to pace himself.

Once he had eaten everything, Rose discarded the box and Tracey smiled at her, his stomach finally feeling satisfied with a real meal for once. He had only gotten those once every two weeks, and it seemed like an eternity since the last time he had one.

"You're not like Charlie, Tracey," Rose said, as they both laid down in her bed. He looked at her as half of his face sank into the pillow next to hers.

"But I hurt Misty," he said, a tear dripping across his nose and onto the pillow. "I slapped her, and then, I tried to force her to have sex with me because I didn't want Brock to have her...I hurt her..."

"But you didn't, Tracey. You didn't force her to have sex with you," she said, smiling. "No matter if Brock stopped you or not, the point is, you didn't do it. And you haven't hurt those babies in the other room."

"And I have no desire to do that," Tracey said, his voice barely audible. "I just wanted to see my daughter, and tell Fiona how much I really love her mom. I thought she could help me."

"But you can't do that anymore, Tracey," Rose said, scooting closer to him. "You've already made far too many mistakes and I'm afraid you are going to get caught if you continue. You can't leave condoms with your DNA on them outside of their shower anymore. You can't wake Misty up in the middle of the night, watching her sleep and fantasizing about her. You can't go into Fiona's room and talk to her, because you scare her. She doesn't understand who or what you are. She just sees you as a strange man who lives in her closet."

Tracey's eyes were red with tears and Rose let her lips brush his own, deepening the kiss into a passionate wrestle of their tongues and discarded clothes.

Rose looked up at him as she lay naked beneath him. "I promised you I'd make you happy, Tracey. I've promised you since day one." She pulled him down and gave him a soft, breif kiss. "Make love to me."

...

 _May 2005_

 _School would be letting out soon, and then perhaps Tracey could focus on his art. He was at the end of his eleventh grade year, and he wasn't a popular kid at school. He went to his classes like he was supposed to and took his tests, but he didn't much pay attention. He always had a sketch pad with him, and usually would buy a new one just about every week._

 _He threw himself into art, because he could relate to art. He could relate to the way the lines were on the page. They had a purpose, a reason. In life, he couldn't really relate to others. Guys were usually jerks, and the pretty girls always liked the jerks. Tracey hadn't even so much as talked to a girl...that is until his father met Rose Vaughn._

 _Rose Vaughn wasn't a girl though. She was a woman. In her mid-thirties, Rose Vaughn was the type of woman that had men falling at her feet. She knew it, too, and his father had definitely fallen at her feet. For that, Tracey was grateful, because it meant maybe his father would finally leave him alone._

 _Tracey wasn't just a quiet artistic kid. He was hiding a secret from everyone, he rarely made eye contact with anyone because he was afraid they would see the sadness in his eyes, the hurt and torture from all of the abuse his father gave him._

 _So he walked with his head down all the way home. Some of the other kids that lived on his block threw things at him. Paper. Old food from their lunches a couple hours ago. Pencils. But he finally did make it home, and normally, Tracey would rather be tortured by the kids at school than he would to be at home with his father, but today, Rose was there and she always made things better._

 _"Hello, Darling," she said, and he looked at the mirror beside her, lines of cocaine set out. She had just snorted one and smiled. "How was school?"_

 _"The usual," he replied. Rose truly was a beautiful woman. Thick red hair, that was teased and permed in tight spirals. Her eyes were ocean blue, her nails were always red and long, perfectly manicured, and her body was the perfect shape. He was mezmerized by her. She had only been dating his father a couple of months, but Tracey often found himself fantasizing about her at night, when he was alone in his room, with the door shut to keep his father out._

 _His father hadn't allowed locks on the doors when he was little, and it wasn't until Tracey got older that he even knew locks could be on doors. When he was little, his father could come in and out of his room at all hours of the night, touch him, beat him if he didn't cooperate, and sometimes..._

 _Tracey shuddered at the thought of being raped over and over by the sick bastard._

 _But when he turned 12 years old, he had went over to a friend's house. The only friend he had ever made in school, who ended up moving away two months after they had become friends because his father took another job. That's where he discovered locks could be put on doors, and he went to a hardware store and bought a ton of them with the money he stole out of his dad's wallet when his dad was hyped up on coke, or passed out on heroine with his girlfriend at the time._

 _Tracey hadn't liked any of his girlfriends, but he liked Rose. She did the drugs, and she drank and she smoked cigarettes, but she was classy and beautiful, and always kept her appearence up, no matter how strung out she might be. He liked that about her._

 _His father had broken the locks off a few times, and he had gotten heavily beaten for trying to keep him out, but Tracey didn't care. He took his punishment, and then he went back to the next day and bought more locks with more money that he had stolen._

 _"Where is Charlie?" Tracey asked. He had long ago stopped calling him Dad. He knew that being molested and raped by your father wasn't a normal thing that dads do, so he stopped calling him that. He had thought about running away, but where would he go? He'd end up in the system, and who knows what kind of family they would put him with?_

 _At least that's what his Dad would say. He would always tell Tracey that if he ran away, he'd be put into foster care, and some other guy would rape him and probably do worse, so he'd best just stay at home. At least he knew he'd live after the "special times" as his father had dubbed it since he was little._

 _"He went off downtown," Rose said, lighting a cigarette."Probably won't be back for a while."_

 _"Good," Tracey said, letting his shoulders slump forward with relief. "Rose, can I talk to you about something?"_

 _"Of course you can," she said, smiling at him. "What is it, Kiddo?" She tapped her cigarette into the ash tray._

 _'Now is your chance, Tracey' he urged himself. Tell someone. He had never wanted to tell a teacher or a police officer, because his father had threatened him with the same story about being put in the system, but he trusted Rose, she wouldn't put him anywhere he didn't want to be. She'd make sure he could stay at home, with her, but keep him safe from Charlie._

 _"Sometimes, when I look at girls, I get these urges," he said, clasping his hands together, tightly as his anxiety grew._

 _"Honey, that's called being a teenager," she said, tapping his knee, and when she did, he had gotten the urge again. It was deep, primal urge, an aching between his legs, one he had never felt before until a couple of years ago._

 _Sex to him was a chore, because his father had treated it like a chore for him to do. While most kids at his school complained about having to do the dishes or vaccum the carpet, his father made him do disgusting unmentionable things to him, and sometimes, allowed other men to come in and have their way with him in exchange for drugs or drug money._

 _But now, sex was something that he wanted to do. He knew, somehow, sex would be different when it was with someone he cared about. Someone he loved, and someone who loved him. Someone like Rose Vaughn._

 _"No, like..." he stopped and looked up at her. "When I look at you. I want to touch you. I want to kiss you."_

 _She smiled and leaned forward, her lips were painted a bright red, and she had perfect, straight teeth. He looked into her eyes, so beautiful. The color of a cerulean ocean. So clear and so bright, though he knew she hadn't slept in a couple of days, she seemed awake as ever._

 _"Then kiss me, Tracey," she said softly, and pressed her lips against his. They were soft, gentle, and Tracey almost cried at the sensation. Her breath didn't smell of rotting meat. Her lips were not rough with unshaven hair. Her cigarettes tasted sweet on her tongue, instead of old and rancid like they did on his father's. He hated when he father tried to kiss him. It was wrong and unnatural for a father to kiss their own child and Tracey had known that ever since he was little._

 _The kiss he shared with Rose now was the best kiss he had ever had in his life._

 _Rose backed up over to the old couch, which was falling in, but neither of them cared at that moment. He knew the effect of cocaine, and he knew it always made people really horny. Rose was already feeling that effect now and she quickly slid herself down onto his erection._

 _Tracey had only lasted about a minute, before his body stiffened and a pleasureable sensation rocketed through his body._

 _His peers had been talking about sex lately. They had been talking about how awesome and amazing it was. Boys seemed to always be chasing girls around for it. Some boys chased around other boys for it, and girls chased other girls, and everyone at school seemed to have just that on their mind. Everyone was falling in love..._

 _But not dreaded sex, until now. Until he was with Rose Vaughn. She smiled down at him, her perfect breasts were in his face and his eyes were glued to them._

 _"Don't tell your father," Rose winked at him and stood up, putting back on her clothes._

 _Tracey watched as she went over to the mirror on the table and did another line of cocaine._

 _"Can I do one?" He asked, and Rose held her nose and snorted._

 _"No, sir, you may not," she said. "Only adults can do cocaine. But you can definitely do me again sometime." She winked and kissed his mouth once again before breaking apart from him, leaving him stunned and naked in the living room._

 _..._

Tracey laid there in bed next to Rose for a few moments afterwards, sweat clung to his skin and he calmed his breathing. His eyes focused on the spinning fan blade in the room, and he breathed in the air, slowly now. Brock's house had a scent to it. A clean scent, like fresh linen from the laundry. It was such a contrast to what his house had smelled like.

His house had smelled like mold, rotted food that was stuffed underneath the couch cushions. It smelled like body odor, vomit, and feces, and he hadn't realized what other people's houses were supposed to smell like until he had went over to his friend's house and his house had smelled like Valencia Island Mangos and fresh baked turkey.

Last time he had laid with Rose in bed like this was when they were in his father's house, on the dirty, soiled bed of his. His sheets had never been washed, ever, it seemed like, and the room smelled stagnent and stuffy.

Now, the sheets felt cool and clean against his skin, and the air smelled clean and fresh, and he almost wished he could take back everything he did to Misty and to Brock. Maybe they would let him stay there with them. Maybe he wouldn't have to hide away in their closet and steal food out of the cabinets after they went to bed at night.

But even as he lay next to Rose in bed, he knew why he did what he did. He was, and forever will be in love with Misty. He swallowed hard and blinked in the darkness.

"Rose?" He asked.

"Yes?" She asked.

"You do know that I'm still very much in love with Misty right?" He asked, and Rose smiled, and made a low sound from the back of her throat.

"Yes, Dear, I know," she reassured him, and he smiled a bit.

"Do you think-"

"No," Rose cut him off before he finished his question, knowing already what it was going to be. "She's not leaving Brock. Not for you. Not for anyone. I know my girl and I know when she's in love, and she's in love."

"But you said..." he lifted himself up on his elbow and he could make out her face in the light that was streaming through the curtains of the window. "You said you would make her love me."

"I can't," Rose said, feeling a tear come to her eye. "I thought I could when I first arrived, and I bought you with me because I know how much you want Misty, but I can't make her love you, Sweetheart."

Tracey started to cry and he threw himself into Rose's arms. "I just want to stop loving her, Rose." He sobbed quietly and she tried to muffle his sobs.

"Shhhh," she said, afraid that Misty or Brock would hear him. They were asleep, across the hall, with the door shut, and they slept with a fan on, but sound can travel directly through walls sometimes.

"I don't want to love her anymore, but I can't help it," his face was soaked with tears and Rose gave him a sympathetic look. "It hurts so bad to watch her loving him the way I deserve her to love me. I'm better than him. I deserve to be loved, too."

His voice was barely above a whisper, and his choking sobs peirced through the darkness of the bedroom as Rose held him in her arms, allowing him to cry.

"Of course you deserve to be loved, Tracey," Rose said, closing her eyes and kissing the top of his head. "I love you."

His eyes, which were shut tight as tears poured down his face, suddenly snapped open and he looked at her.

"You do?" He asked.

She nodded slowly. "I always thought you were so handsome. You don't look a thing like your father."

"Why were you with Charlie instead of me, then?" He asked.

"Because he had drugs and he had money, and you were just a highschool kid with a talent for art," she smiled, apologetically. "But I'm a different woman now. I've gotten off drugs, and I only drink now and then and I only smoke when I'm outside, because Brock doesn't allow smoking in the house."

Tracey rolled his eyes. "He's such a snob. Misty only wants him because he's an heir to the Pewter Gym."

"Oh, Sweety, that's not true," Rose said. "She's an heiress as well, to my gym. Though, she's fourth in line, I don't think she'd have a hard time taking over the Cerulean Gym from her sisters if she really wanted to. I know it's hard for you to hear, Tracey, but Misty is truly in love with Brock."

His body tensed.

"I only tell you this because you need to realize this, or it's just going to keep hurting you until you finally accept it," she said, sympathetically, rubbing his shoulders.

"I'm not ready to let her go," He said quietly, sitting up. "She's mine! Rose, she was mine first! I was going to ask her to marry me!"

He raised his voice and Rose sat up, trying to quiet him down, but he rejected it. "No!" He screamed and Rose was sure that at least one of them heard it.

"Brock had no right to steal her!" He screamed and he tore open the door to the bedroom. Just as he stepped out into the hall, he heard Fiona screaming.

"Mommy!" She yelled, and Tracey panicked. He quickly dashed back into the guest bedroom and shut the door just as he saw Misty rushing out, tying her robe around her waist. He could hear her voice in the other room and he looked over at Rose.

Her voice was a whisper. "I don't want you going back to that hospital. Keep a low profile, Tracey. Get back in the closet, and hide. She saw the door to the bedroom open, they will be in here once Fiona is calmed down.

Tracey reluctantly agreed and he sobbed quietly in the darkness of the closet. He had to control his temper. He just had bursts of anger so violent that he had no control over his own body sometimes. That's why he had ended up doing what he did in the first place, from trying to rape Misty, to trying to kill her and Brock both.

He heard Brock enter the room.

"Did you open the door?" Brock asked. Rose had pretended to be asleep. The light was out and she was laying in bed, but was pretending to be a little groggy.

"I heard Fiona screaming," she said, clicking on a light, and pretending that the sudden light bothered her eyes. "I was going to check on her, but I saw you two were already on top of it."

"I thought I saw someone in here," he said, looking around. He sniffed the air. He could smell sex. That potent scent of sweat and arousal in the air was very strong and he looked over at Rose.

"Are you sure my Dad is gone?" He asked.

"Honey, of course he is. You saw him leave," she rubbed lotion on her hands. "Why?"

"It smells like sex in here," Brock looked around and checked behind the door. Rose nervously watched as he approached the closet, opened it, then closed it again.

"With as much sex as you and Misty have, I'm sure you know what sex smells like," she said, with a smile, and Brock blushed. "If you must know, sometimes when a woman gets lonely, she likes to fantasize."

Brock laughed and Rose admired how handsome he was when he smiled. If she really had been fantasizing, it would have been about him, that's for sure.

"Gotcha," he said, winking at her. "Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight, Brock," she said, her voice holding a sensual tone. A tone that made Tracey Sketchit's blood boil.

...

It was a good hour before they got Fiona to settle back down, but they eventually did, and they got her to settle back down in her own bed. She seemed to feel safe with Holly there, even though her nightmares and sounds she heard in the house at night frightened her.

Misty and Brock fell back into bed, tiredly. Sleep overtook them quickly, and they awoke Sunday morning to a light tapping on the door. Brock got out of bed, and checked the time. It was fifteen minutes past 11 A.M. and he found Fiona and Holly standing at their door.

"Daddy," Fiona said, running to him and wrapping her arms around him. "We're hungry."

"Alright, alright. I'll make you something to eat," he grinned at them and slipped on a tank top. Misty was still asleep, and Brock tried to be quiet not to wake her up. She needed her rest. The sky was a cloudy gray and Brock turned on the television in the living room. The Sunday morning news was on, and the weather report was calling for a light snow.

Fiona and Holly smiled.

"Can we play in the snow?" Holly asked.

"Depends on if it falls before it gets dark, but I don't think we're going to get much right now. It's barely November,"he said, making them both a turkey sandwhich and making a pitcher of kool-aid. He noticed the turkey he had just bought was just about gone, and it had only been a couple of days.

With Misty being pregnant, he wasn't surprised the food was disappearing. When she had been pregnant with Fiona, she could put more food away than he could. Not that he brought this to her attention...

There was a knock on the front door, and Brock went to answer it. A woman stood there in a pants suit, dark blue. Her hair was long, wavy and brown, and she was a thin, sophisticated looking woman.

"Hello," Brock greeted her and she smiled.

"I'm Jessica Pritchard, I'm with the Social Services Department of Pewter City. I understand that Holly Castillo is staying with you?" She asked, and Brock nodded his head.

"Yes, she's been with us for a few weeks," Brock said, inviting her in from the cold. "I've got a pot of coffee going now. Can I get you a cup of that, or some tea?"

"Coffee would be great," she smiled, taking note that he was very handsome. She could see in the kitchen and saw the two little girls sitting at the table, happily eating, and playing with a deck of cards. Squeals and giggles erupted every few moments, and it was so nice to see that one of her cases she was assigned to was with a happy child in a happy environment.

Brock came back with two cups of coffee on a tray with one of his mother's old sugar bowls that she gave him. Jessica put a couple cubes of sugar in her coffee and stirred. She sipped it and smiled.

"Cerulean brew, is it?" She asked.

"Good taste," Brock said, taking a sip of his own coffee. "How can I help you, miss Pritchard?"

"Well, I normally wouldn't have come over on Sunday, but I know how busy you are during the week with the gym, and talk of the town is that you aren't particularly a religious man, so I thought now was a good safe bed that you would be home," she said, offering him a smile. "It's about Holly."

Brock's heart dropped. "She has to leave us, doesn't she?"

Jessica nodded. "I'm afraid so. Her grandmother is asking for her now, and she checks out. She needs to have a permanent place of residence so that the school will know where to send all of his information off to."

"Fiona is going to be really upset," Brock said, looking back into the kitchen. He heard footsteps on the staircase and he looked up to see Misty. She had gotten dressed in a long sleeve sweater and a pair of jeans. She saw Jessica and then looked over at Brock.

"Misty, hey Sweetheart. Jessica, this is my wife, Misty. Misty, this is Jessica Pritchard, she works for the Department of Social Services," Brock put an arm around Misty, to quell any fear she may have had that Jessica was here for any reason that would involve anything sexual with him. She was a pretty woman, and he knew Misty's suspicions were up that he was flirting with her.

Misty shook her hand and smiled. "Hello."

"Mrs. Harrison, as I told your husband, I'm afraid Holly has to leave, to go live with her grandmother," Jessica informed her.

"When?" Misty asked, feeling her heart sink.

"Immediately," she said, and Misty felt tears sting her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison. It's nothing against you two at all, you two have taken such good care of Holly. School says she's so much happier since she's been staying here, and I can see it for myself. If it were up to me, Holly could stay here until she graduates school, but unfortunately, her grandmother is next of kin, and she has to stay with her, until other arrangements can be made."

"Where does her grandmother live?" Brock asked, and he could tell by Jessica's face that it wasn't in Pewter City.

"Her grandmother lives in Mahogany town," Jessica said.

"That's in a whole other state. That's in Johto," Misty looked over at Brock. "Fiona's going to be heartbroken."

"I know," he placed a hand on her knee. "We'll have to just help her through it."

"Why don't you call the girls in now?" Jessica suggested. "I do have to have her off to Mahogany town by one o'clock and I don't want to rush you..."

"I understand," Brock mentioned, and then turned around. "Hey girls, are you done eating?"

"Yea!" Fiona said.

"Come on in here, both of you," he called out to them, and they both ran into the living room. Holly crawled up in Brock's lap and Fiona sat, curled next to her mother. They both looked at Jessica, then at Brock.

"Who is she?" Fiona asked.

"This is Jessica Pritchard. She works for social services, and she has something that we have to explain to you guys," Brock told them, and Jessica smiled at them both.

"Holly, sweety, your grandmother in Mahogany town has agreed to take you in and let you come live with her," she said, watching as the little girl wrapped her arms around Brock's neck, holding on to him tight.

"I want to live here," Holly argued and Brock felt his own heart breaking. He looked over at Misty who was trying not to cry.

"Holly, I'm afraid that isn't a possibility," Jessica told her, solemnly. "I know you love it here. And I know this would be an excellent home for you, but unfortunately, I have to take you where the law says you belong right now, and that's with your grandmother."

"I don't want Holly to leave," Fiona said, tears sprang to her eyes. Misty comforted her, and Brock pulled Holly back to look at her.

"Hey, listen, it might only for a little bit, OK?" He said, and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"But I thought you were my daddy, now," Holly said, looking at him, then up at Jessica. "Can't he be my daddy?"

"Sweety, I wish that were true, but he's not. Holly, we don't have much time for you to be at your grandmother's house," Jessica told her. "You have to come with me."

Both girls started to cry and scream as Holly was taken. Misty and Brock both kissed Holly on her head before Jessica carried her out to the car. She reached out for them as the car drove away, and they didn't take their eyes off of it until it was off of their street.

Fiona was crying so hard Misty was afraid she would stop breathing. She was attempting to calm her down, and willing herself not to cry, too.

"I knew this was going to happen sooner or later," Brock said, leaning against the wall by the closet by the front door.

Misty finally got Fiona to quiet down, but the little girl was still considerably upset.

"I know, I just...never thought I'd actually want to adopt that little girl," Misty said, looking at Brock. "We have the money, don't we?" She asked, Fiona was wiggling to get down and go to her room. Which was fine, perhaps she needed to cry more, and sometimes crying alone helped more than crying outloud around other people.

"Of course have the money," Brock told her. "Even with the baby coming, but we don't have the room, or the legal leg to stand on. We're not kinned to her. We're just her best friend's parents."

His shoulder was still leaning against the wall, as he and Misty stood in the hallway in silence. Suddenly, something violent hit the wall, causing Brock to feel the jolt through his body. He immediately retreated from the wall and looked at it, then looked at his wife.

"What the hell was that?" He asked. "It felt like someone punched the wall."

"From the inside?" Misty asked.

"Yea," he said, still perplexed. He opened up the closet, and as always it was empty. Just some holiday decorations and a vaccum cleaner, along with their winter coats and snow boots.

Misty got goosebumps. "Do you think we have mice?"

"Mice on steroids," Brock jokingly told her, laughing. Then his face turned serious. "No, it sounded like someone punched it. It felt like it, too. Like a person."

"Maybe it's a Raticate practicing it's tackle attack..." Misty suggested nervously.

"I've never seen a Raticate hit that hard before," Brock hit the wall back, not with all of his strength, but enough to illicit a response if anyone was on the otherside. He heard nothing and decided maybe he had imagined it, but for him and Misty to have the exact same experience, them both hearing the hit, and him feeling the hit, he knew he hadn't imagined it.

He took her hands in his and kissed the backs of them. "Are you alright, love?"

"I'm alright," she smiled up at him. "I'm just disappointed...and tired."

"Fiona will be alright. She'll make more friends at school, and we'll make arrangements so Fiona and Holly can talk on the phone sometimes. It will all work out." He promised, kissing her briefly.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"I'm pregnant. What do you think?" She asked, grinning.

"Right," he laughed and headed into the kitchen to make her something to eat.

...

They took Holly! They took her!

Tracey had punched the wall so hard that he splintered the wall and cut his knuckles. He knew Brock was on the otherside, he could hear his voice, but he hadn't meant to punch the wall so hard that he would notice something. God damn it!

Rose told him no more mess-ups. Brock and Misty were both getting suspicious. But that anger that was always buried so deep inside him came bubbling up again, and he had nothing else around him to take his aggression out on, so he had hit the wall.

He cried for what seemed like hours inside the wall, surrounded by darkness. It was cold, the only warmth he felt was when he got to sit inside the closet in Rose's room at night after everyone else had went to bed. He didn't need to hide as much now that Brock's father was gone. Flint hadn't known Tracey was in the house, hiding. He hadn't known about Rose's crush on Tracey either.

Rose had given him a book light and he used it to sketch pictures. Pictures of Misty. When he had last laid eyes on her, she was making the bed. So he drew that image of her, slightly bent down to smooth out the sheets. The sheets she and Brock laid on every night. The bed that they made love on all the time. The plain white sheets were so clean and crisp and Tracey pictured them splattered with Brock's blood after bing brutally stabbed with every ounce of fury Tracey could muster.

...  
Fiona had to return to school. She had liked her new teacher, Georgio, but she missed Holly. She hadn't been too fond of Miss. Castillo since that night she had spent the night with Holly, and she wondered why she wasn't coming back, but as they weeks had worn on, she hadn't thought much about Miss Castillo. Georgio let them call him by his first name and he gave her extra ice cream at snack time because he said he was an old friend of her Mom's.

She sat alone at lunch, and recess time, which was spent in doors now, due to the cold and rainy weather, was spent building things with legos, by herself. The other children would get up and walk away if Fiona tried to play with them. Half way through her first day back without Holly, Fiona found herself in tears.

Georgio sat at his desk, keeping an eye on the children as they milled about the playroom, getting into different things and exploring. He noticed Fiona had busied herself coloring a picture of a pony at a table by herself with only a few crayons. She wasn't able to share the big box of crayons with the other kids, because they hadn't really made room for her at the table.

That's when he noticed the tears in her eyes and stood up and walked over to her.

"Fiona?" He asked, and she turned to look at him, her blue-green eyes were filled with tears. "Fiona, what's the matter?"

"I want my mommy," she said, quietly. She knew she was supposed to be grown up, she had been trying so hard because she knew she would be a big sister in just a few months, but right now, with as lonely as she felt, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her mother's lap and cry.

Georgio smiled. "She will be here to pick you up, soon. Fiona. It's already 12:30. How many hours is that until 3 o clock?"

Fiona looked up athe clock. "Two."

"Two and a half," Georgio corrected, smiling. "Very good, Fiona. You are learning how to tell time. You are a very bright young lady, just like your mother."

"I want to go home," Fiona said, her voice barely audible, but Georgio had heard it. He sighed and frowned, placing his small frame in one of the tiny chairs.

"Don't you want to play with the other kids?" He asked. He knew Holly had left, and he knew it was hard on Fiona, but calling home was defeating the purpose of a child going to preschool. They came here to socialize, be ready for kindergarten, and be used to being separated from their parents for long periods of time.

Fiona shook her head.

He stood up. "Let me call your parents and see what I can do. Alright? In the mean time, try to play with the other kids, alright?"

She nodded, but made no move to get up. She hadn't liked the other kids in her class. She had tried, but they had shunned her. She saw Georgio sit down at his desk and pick up the phone on the desk, dialing a number and waiting.

...

Brock shrugged off his jacket as he came in the door. "Hey, Misty, is your mother out of the house? Her car is gone."

"She went shopping," Misty replied from the kitchen and Brock smiled slyly to himself, and then rounded the corner in the kitchen. He was still wearing his sly grin when Misty looked at him, and she knew immediately what was on his mind.

She was on the computer, shopping online for some things for the baby. Receiving blankets, bottles, cute little onsies. Brock rested his head on her shoulder and smiled.

"We have plenty of time to get all of that stuff at your baby shower," he reminded her, his breath tickling her ear.

"I know, but I'm just looking," she smiled and shrugged. "I'm excited."

"I am too," he whispered sensually and his voice sent a spark through her.

"How long do you have?" She asked. She had been wanting sex all weekend, and with everything that had went on, they really hadn't had the chance.

"An hour," he kissed her neck and she shut the laptop, twisting around on the stool to face him. His lips met hers in a hurried passion, and she felt herself being lifted onto the counter. He tugged off her jeans, and he wondered how long she would wear the sexy tight jeans before she gave up and only wore yoga pants before the baby is born. He decided not to ask and just enjoy the way her body felt in the tight denim.

She wrapped her now bare legs around his waist and he moaned softly into her mouth as he struggled with his own jeans, frantically pulling at the belt buckle. Misty's cell phone vibrated roughly on the counter, making a loud sound and they both stopped, momentarily.

"Call 'em back later," Brock said, kissing her, but Misty pushed him away.

"Brock, it could be Fiona," she said, and he shook his head.

"It's not. She's been going to school now for almost three months and has been fine. Don't worry so much," he assured her, but the look in her eyes told him she would not be in the mood for sex until she answered the phone and confirmed it wasn't for Fiona.

"Brock..." she said.

"Alright," he agreed reluctantly and picked up her cell phone. Sure enough, it was Fiona's school. He answered it, trying not to trip over his jeans that were around his ankles.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Uh-y-yes," a nervous man's voice answered the phone. "Is this Misty Harrison's phone?"

"Yes, sir. I'm her husband. Fiona's father. Do you need to speak to my wife?" Misty looked at him desparately, and pulled up her pants, realizing that her baby weight gain was making it a challenge to even put her pants on.

"Well, to either of you," he said. "This Georgio, Fiona's teacher. She seems to be having a hard time adjusting. She's very sad about Holly leaving, and I've tried to help her, but all she has done is cry all day long and says she wants to come home."

Brock looked at the clock. It was a little after twelve-thirty. He then looked over at Misty.

"Is she OK, Brock?"

"She's fine. She's just having a hard time adjusting to Holly being gone," he said, then spoke into the phone. "Maybe it's best if we take Fiona home for the day and have a talk with her. This whole thing has been very hard on her."

"I understand," Georgio said. "Thank you, Mr. Harrison."

They hung up and Brock sighed, buttoning his jeans back up. They left immediately, leaving their house empty, and Tracey couldn't ignore his growling stomach anymore. He had to get something to eat. He raided the cabinets, taking spoonfuls of peanut butter and biting into a block of cheese in the fridge, pouring himself a nice, tall glass of kool-aid. They wouldn't notice these things missing, or at least, he hoped they wouldn't.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Brock and Misty checked in at the front counter, getting vistor stickers and then being permitted into the building. It was kind of annoying, but then again, Brock was glad that they were so cautious about letting strangers into the building. It kept his daughter safe.

They found Fiona's classroom and knocked on the door. Georgio looked up from his papers on the desk, and smiled, inviting them in. Brock opened the door and Fiona immediately looked up, and ran to them. She wrapped her arms around Misty's waist.

"Mommy!"

"Hey, Fiona!" Misty said, smiling down at her. "What's the matter, Sweetheart?" She knelt down until she was eyelevel with her daughter and Brock walked up to Georgio.

"Brock Harrison," he offered his hand and Georgio timidly took it, noticing the strong grip he had.

"Georgio Franklin," he said, offering a nervous smile. Brock was even more intimidating than he had imagined. He had a crush on Misty since Elementary school, and she never had shown interest in him. When he found out she had married Brock Harrison, the Pewter City Gym leader, he knew he'd never really get a shot with her. He didn't want Brock to find out he was still pining away for his wife.

"Has Fiona been like this all day?" Brock asked, looking back at his daughter, that was clinging so tight to Misty that he wasn't sure if she'd ever let go.

"She has," Georgio said. "She hasn't really been trying to play with the other kids. Fiona's shy and selective, but that's alright. A lot of the most intelligent kids are selective about who they hang out with. I know she misses Holly."

"We'll help her through it," Brock said, nodding his head. "You have a great day."

"Thanks," Georgio said, than his eyes fell on Misty and his heart skipped a beat. She was just glowing, and beautiful. Her breasts were full, her hair was thick, long, and red. She was a thousand times more beautiful than she was when he was teenager, and even then she was a knock-out.

"Bye Beautiful," Georgio said, then immediately realized what he had said, and his eyes widened. Brock and Misty both looked back at him and he blushed. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"C'mon, Misty. Let's go home," Brock said, wrapping his arm protectively around her and leading her out into the hallway. "He's still got a thing for you, doesn't he?"

Misty shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm with you, and I love you."

"Yea, well, I want to make sure he knows it," His scowl eventually turned into a grin, and Misty buckled Fiona up in the backseat.

"You're jealous aren't you?" She asked, grinning.

Brock laughed at her remark. "Jealous? Of that nerd? Oh, c'mon. It isn't like we are in some kind of 1980's teen classic movie where the nerd gets the pretty girl, and the jock gets dissed. I could pound that little dweeb into the ground if I need to."

"Don't be so violent, Brock," Misty said, playfully slapping him on the arm. "Plus, I'm not some prize to be fought over and won. I'm not a trophy."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he apologized as they rode down the highway. "He just needs to know he can't undress you with his eyes like that. Only I'm allowed to do that."

Misty rolled her eyes, and then turned back to Fiona.

"How are you, Sweety?"

Fiona was smiling, but she looked from the window to her mother. "I miss Holly."

"I know you do," Brock said, sadly. "We all do. But you'll make new friends. Trust me, you have your whole life ahead of you, Fiona."

...

Lola Harrison stopped by to enjoy a dinner with her son and daughter-in-law, and also offer some comfort to her granddaughter when she had heard that the poor little girl had come home early from school that day. She had stopped by the toy store and bought Fiona a couple of barbie dolls, though Brock had told her it wasn't necessary. Fiona already had plenty of barbies and ken dolls to start her own city, but Lola insisted, as she always did.

Fiona's face lit up and she looked at Misty. "Mommy, will you play barbies with me?"

Misty smiled. "Yes, Fiona. I will. Maybe we will play tonight before you go to bed. How does that sound?"

"Yes!" Fiona said, running up to her room.

Lola smiled at Misty and gave her a hug. "How are you, Sweetheart?"

"Tired. I feel like a blimp," Misty gave her a week smile. "I don't even have the cute baby bump. I just feel bloated."

"You are gorgeous, Misty," Lola complimented her. "Sometimes you feel heavier with some babies than others. I gained so much weight with Brock, but hardly gained any with Forest. Of course Brock ate like a truck growing up."

"He still does," Misty said, smiling, watching him pull a pudding cup from the fridge.

"Hey, I work it off at the gym," he said, defensively. And he did. Brock didn't have an ounce of fat on him, he had always been pure muscle.

"Don't ruin your appetite," Lola told him, just like she used to when he was a little boy and used to sneak cookies and pudding before dinner. "Misty's worked very hard on dinner tonight."

"I'm not, Mother," he said, finishing off the pudding cup. Then his face turned serious and he sat down beside her at the kitchen island.

"How are you feeling, Mom? You alright?" Brock asked.

"I'm just fine, Sweety," she promised him with a grin. "Don't worry about me."

"Do you need any money?" Brock asked her.

"Oh, Honey, don't even think about it," she said, slapping his hand lightly. "You save that money and put it towards Fiona, your wife, and your new baby. I have plenty that comes in from the gym. We will own part of that you know."

"I know," Brock told her. "I just want to make sure you are alright."

Lola kissed his cheek. "I'm having dinner with my son, my wonderful daughter-in-law, and my beautiful granddaughter. Of course I'm alright." She swallowed her tea and then looked at the both of them. "Forest did tell me that you kicked Flint out."

"I had to," Brock replied, feeling guilty and hoping his mother wouldn't be mad at him.

"You don't have to explain sweetheart, I know what kind of man he is," she looked down at her coffee cup, then her eyes locked on to Misty's. "I'm sorry that he made you feel uncomfortable."

"It's not your fault, Lola," Misty offered. "I felt bad when I told Brock. I didn't want to get anyone hurt."

"Oh, Sweety, don't feel bad," Lola said, standing up and giving her a hug. "Anytime a man touches you in a way you don't like, you need to tell someone. Especially Brock. He works very hard to keep you safe, Honey."

"I'm just sorry that my mother did what she did and caused you to be hurt, Lola," Misty said, almost feeling as if she was about to cry. "She's not here, by the way. She went out to a movie and won't be back until late."

Lola grinned. "Good. Because if you don't mind me saying, I'd really like to knock the bitch out."

"Momma!" Brock said, shocked, but his expression turned into a grin. "Now you know where I get it from. I'll knock Georgio out."

"Georgio?" Lola asked.

Misty rolled her eyes. "Fiona's new teacher. We knew eachother back in Cerulean City and he he's had this life long crush on me, but obviously, I'm not interested. If I was, I would be in _his_ kitchen, pregnant with _his_ child and having _him_ stare at my ass."

Brock's eyes snapped from her rear to her face, and he smiled. "Yea, but you'd still want me."

Lola giggled. "Brock, don't be cocky. You're a very lucky man to have such a wonderful mother to your children, and such a beautiful wife."

Tracey hid behind the wall and could hear every word they were saying. Yes, Brock was a very lucky man indeed. And he hated him for it.

... The next morning, Misty woke up and immediately felt dizzy. Morning sickness. It had hit her like a ton of bricks, and she rushed to the bathroom, spitting up very little of what was in her stomach, and sitting back against the wall.

Brock tiredly walked into the bathroom, squinting against the light. "You alright, Honey?"

"Morning sickness," she replied, and then flushed the toilet. The room was spinning and she just wanted to get back to bed. Brock got a rag from the closet and ran it under very cold water, then helped her to feet and back over to the bed, placing it across the forehead.

"You want me to get you some crackers and ginger ale? Maybe try to eat that before you actually get out of bed. It helps," he sat on the edge of the bed as she laid her head back on the cool pillow. Her nausea was starting to subside, but she nodded. It wouldn't hurt.

He stood up and left the room. The room was dark, and had finally stopped spinning now. She hadn't had terrible morning sickness with Fiona, just a few times in the beginning, and she was hoping this would all be done with by her second trimester. A few seconds later, he returned with a bottle of ginger ale and a sleeve of saltines.

"Eat a few of those and drink the ginger ale before you sit up," he said, and she took a cracker from the sleeve, munching on the bland, dry crunchiness, then washed it down with a sip of ginger ale. "It always worked for my Mom. Of course, eventually, she had no morning sickness at all since her body had grown accustomed to being pregnant."

"Are you trying to do that same thing to me?" She asked eyeing him and he laughed.

"No, I don't see you as a baby-making machine," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe just a dishwasher...

"Brock!" She scolded him and he kissed her forehead.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Don't hate me," he chuckled. "I'm a guy. I'm stupid. Plus, you know I'm usually the one who does the dishes anyway."

She smiled at him and sipped the ginger ale again. "I'm feeling better now."

"Good. I'll get Fiona off the school. I have a match at ten o'clock, and I'll be gone until about seven tonight. If you need me, call me, alright?" He said, and she wanted to argue with him, -she was perfectly capable of getting Fiona ready for school- but she was afraid the world would start spinning again if she got up and started moving around, chasing Fiona around getting her ready.

"Alright," she said, sinking back down into her pillow. "Brock?"

"Yea?" He asked, as he stood up.

"I love you," she said, softly and he kissed her softly.

"I love you, too," he said, his eyes shimmering in the darkness as he looked down at her. Then he was gone, and she closed her eyes, slipping right back into sleep.

...

Tracey watched Misty sleeping for a good hour. He hid inside the closet, and only opened it a fraction to peek his eye out. She wasn't feeling well, and he thought of how inconsiderate Brock was for just taking off to work at his stupid gym when Misty was feeling so lousy. After all, he was the one who had knocked her up, the least he could was take care of her.

He knew that if she was pregnant with his child, he'd never spend a minute away from her and would stay with her when she was sick. He sketched a picture of her. She was facing towards the closet, her back to the bathroom door. Her eyes were closed, and her long lashes fell over her cheeks. Her red hair curled around her shoulders so beautifully, Tracey didn't take his eyes off of her as he sketched. He couldn't look away.

He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside her, wrap his arms around her, kiss her neck, then her lips, and feel her breasts on his palms. He had felt her breasts way back when they were dating, but that's as far as he had gotten with her. She would always stop him, and though he had gotten angry about it, he hadn't shown it until he figured out why. It was because she was still holding out hope for Brock. His anger grew as he thought about Brock again.

Damn bastard.

He watched her stir in her sleep, turn around and settle back into the pillow. He was positive she hadn't woken up. He used to watch her sleep when they were together. He would sneak into her room, whichever room she was staying in, and he would watch her. Sketch her.

The urge to wrap his body around hers was getting to strong, so he retreated back into the closet, crawled through the small space he had dug out between Misty's closet and Rose's closet and he emerged in Rose's room. She was sitting at her vanity table, applying her make up.

"Tracey," she whispered. "I was wondering if you were awake yet. I bought you some breakfast from the Burger King down the street."

Rose," he said, ignoring the chicken biscuit. "I want to go in there and be with her. I want to hold her. Touch her. Smell her. I want to make love to her." His eyes were welling up with tears, and Rose shook her head.

"Tracey, no, we talked about this. What do you do when you have those feelings?" She asked.

"Take a cold shower," he repeated what she had told him and she nodded.

"You'll have to be quick. Use the bathroom in the hallway, only take about a minute or two, just to get those thoughts off your mind," Rose said, then suddenly, her cell phone rang. "Hold on a second, dear."

She clicked on her phone and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Mom?" It was Lilly, and she sounded scared.

"Lilly, darling. How are you this morning?"

"Daisy's in labor," Lilly told her. "She just went to the hospital about an hour ago. Can you please make it here? She's really scared."

"Oh, Honey, of course I'll be there," she said.

"Is Misty coming with you?" Lilly questioned.

"I'm afraid not. She's pregnant too, and her morning sickness is bothering her. I'm going to let her sleep," Rose said, hoping Tracey would behave himself while she was gone. "Try giving her a call later this afternoon. I'm sure she and Brock would love to come see the baby once it's born."

"Alright," Lilly said. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

They hung up and Rose looked back at Tracey. "I have to go, Sweety."

Panic was apparent in his eyes. "No, no, no, no!" He shook his head. "Please, I don't know if I can control myself without you here, Rose. I might really do something stupid."

"Take the cold shower. You know Brock will be gone all day long. Fiona is off at school. Misty will probably be asleep for a couple of hours, at least, so go take your shower now and go back into hiding and do not come out until I am back home, which probably won't be until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Tracey asked, looking at her disbelief.

"You can do it," Rose said, leaning in and kissing him on the lips, softly, then passionately. She pulled away a moment later and smiled. "Cold shower. Now."

...

The cold shower hadn't helped Tracey at all. He had taken it for a good five minutes, letting the arctic water fall over his body, distracting him from the sexual desires and thoughts he was having, but it hadn't seemed to help. He went back into the closet, and waited for what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He ate the chicken biscuit Rose had brought him, but it didn't help his desires any. He found himself staring at her again from inside the bedroom closet.

She was still wrapped up in the quilt. All he could see was her red hair against the pillow. He stood up, and he tried to tell himself not to do it, but he opened the closet door and crept towards her. Now he could see her face, she was so beautiful he felt like maybe he was dreaming. Being this close to her again was like a dream.

He had been close to her the night she had woken up and saw him pleasing himself to her. He had been so close to her, that he rubbed his erection onto her lips as she slept. He didn't know why he had done that, he knew it would wake her up, but he couldn't help it. He had to know what it felt like, and he had watched her do it to Brock so many times that his jealousy finally got the better of him.

But Brock wasn't here now. Brock wasn't here now to stop him, or beat him up, or choke him to death. Tracey lifted up the quilt behind her and slid into bed. He couldn't help but remember that it was Brock's side of the bed, with his pillow, the indention where his head had been all night was still there. His eyes scanned over the headboard, and he could see the nicks in it that it had gotten from hitting the wall so many times when they would make love.

It pissed him off. He wanted to throw it across the room, or beat Brock over the head with it.

Then his eyes fell on Misty. The warmth of her body was warming up his legs, which were already under the quilt with her, and her steady breathing told him she was in a very deep sleep. He smiled and with a sense of boldness, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Her body was perfect. Her curves were in all the right places. Her breasts were very obvious in her silk night shirt she was wearing, and her legs were smooth and bare against his own. He was spooning her by now, and she seemed to instinctively settle back down in his warmth.

He lay his head on the pillow and smelled her hair. It smelled like lavender. Misty always smelled like lavender, even when they were dating. Her hair was soft, and shiny and smelled so fresh and clean.

Then his lips found her neck and he kissed her there, a couple times, before he felt her stir. A smile played at her lips, and Tracey could feel his erection pressed against her backside. She moved back against him, never opening her eyes.

The feeling of her rear against his erection and the small sound of pleasure she made caused him to go over the egde, and his body spasmed as orgasm overtook him. He made a very audible sound, and Misty's eyes flew open.

Someone was in bed with her. The warm, solid body. Brock? No. It didn't smell like Brock. He always smelled of cologne. She just smelled body wash, and maybe stale body odor. She turned around and let out a loud shreik. Tracey fell backwards out of bed and Misty stood up, beating him with a pillow and crying.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" She screamed, and Tracey backed away from her, his legs still shaking from his orgasm. When he saw her reach for her phone, his lust turned into anger and he lunged for her, but Misty was faster. She raced from the bedroom and down the stairs, hoping not to fall. She didn't.

She made it to the landing of the stairs, but Tracey was racing after her, a look of rage on his face. She rushed out of the front door and down the street. Her cell phone clutched in her hand, she turned into a neighbors yard and saw that the camper they had on site had its door open. No one was inside.

Sure, she could get in trouble for traspassing, but when they learned she was being chased by a psychomaniac, maybe they wouldn't press charges against her. Shakily, she dialed 911, and an oparator picked up.

"Tracey Sketchit. He's chasing me...he...he was in my house...in my bed," she said, then a loud bang came to the front of the camper.

"Open up, Bitch!" Tracey screamed, jerking on the door. "I know you're in there!"

Misty tried not to scream, and she kept her voice quiet. "He's after me. He's going to kill me."

"We have an officer on the way right now, Mrs. Harrison," the dispatcher said."Don't open that door. Try not to scream. Just keep quiet."

"You fucking cunt whore!" Tracey screamed louder and Misty started to cry more.

"I want to call my husband," she said to the dispatcher. "Can I please call my husband?"

"I need you to stay on the phone with me," The dispatcher said. "We will get a call out to your husband. Don't worry. Just focus on staying calm and quiet. The police will be there shortly."

"I'm gonna fucking rip this door off and kill you! You stupid selfish slut!" His voice ripped through her ears and she backed away from the door as he violently pounded on it. The door was coming loose from the hinges, she could see that now.

She heard police sirens, and then the banging stopped. She got up off the floor of the camper and peeked through one of the windows. Police cars were everywhere, about 3 of them, and they were searching the entire yard, guns drawn. Her eyes widened. Where was Tracey?

Did he run?

She knew she hadn't imagined it.

Maybe she was just dreaming. Maybe she would wake up and she would be in her own bed, and maybe Brock would be beside her, cuddled up next to her, kissing her. She hoped that was the case, but she couldn't wake up, because she was already awake.

A sharp knock came at the camper and Misty jumped.

"Pewter City Police Department. Open up!" A male officer with a loud, deep voice sounded.

Misty rushed to the door and opened it, and the officers looked up at her. "Mrs. Harrison..."

"I'm sorry, I was hiding..." she said, as one of the officer helped her out of the camper. Her neighbors came outside. They were a couple around her and Brock's age, with two kids. Misty often played poker with the wife once a month.

"Misty?" Deidra Meyer asked. "What's going on?"

"I was being chased by Tracey, the man who...tried to kill me...a long time ago, and we used to date, but not seriously or anything, and he..." Misty trailed off, realizing she wasn't making a whole lot of sense, tears streaming down her face. "He was in bed with me, and he chased me out of my house and...I didn't know where to hide from him and i saw your camper was open, and I'm so sorry. I'll pay for any damages to your door."

"It's fine," Preston Meyer said. "It's not a big deal. I've got insurance on the thing and it doesn't look that bad. The important thing is, are you alright?"

"I'm just scared," she said, not moving from the police officer who was standing with her. "I just want my husband."

"We're contacting him now, Mrs. Harrison," a female officer said, reassuringly.

"Did you get him?" Misty asked, looking around, like an animal looking for a potential predator.

"No, but we saw him running back behind some bushes. We're on his trail," Another male officer told her.

...

Brock was in the middle of an intense battle with his cell phone at his pocket rang out loudly. Normally, he wouldn't have answered it, but with Misty being in her early pregnancy, he always took it as a priority.

"Hold the match," Brock said, reaching for his cell phone. The number on the screen said the Pewter City Police Department, and he answered it, leaving the 10 year old boy from Fushia City waiting.

"Brock Harrison," he answered.

"Brock, this is Officer Rowland from the Pewter City Police department," he said. "Your wife was just alledgedly chased out of the house by a strange man. She hid in a camper of one of your neighbors, The Meyers, and called us. We are trying to the find the man now."

"Oh, God, no," Brock shook his head. "Is she OK? Did he hurt her?"

"No, she doesn't appear to be hurt and she says she's fine, but she keeps asking for you," Officer Rowland told him.

"I'll be there," Brock said, immediately calling off the match. "Tell Misty I'll be there in five minutes. You're at the Meyers house?"

"Yes, Sir," he said.

"Thank you," Brock hung up the phone. "Listen, kid, here is your fee back. I'm sorry, I'm going to have to reschedule our battle. A family emergency has come up and I have to go."

The little boy nodded his head and didn't argue. Brock headed out to his truck and ripped out onto the street, racing towards his neighborhood. Three police cars were in front of the Meyers house and Misty stood in the yard, shivering in nothing but her sleep clothes.

He parked, and got out, immediately taking Misty into his arms and hugging her. She drank in his scent and his warmth.

"Brock, I was so scared," she said, finally letting all the tears flow out again.

"Shhh, shhh," he whispered softly. "I've got you, now. I've always got you, OK?"

She nodded and wiped the tears from her face. "I want to go home."

"We'll go home," he told her. "Have you given your statement to the police."

"We got it," Officer Rowland said, nodding his head. "You can take her home. She seems pretty shook up. We'd also like to do a search of the house, in case he returned. We'll send Officer Fleming there, along with Detective Stone, and they will do a full sweep of the house."

"Thank you," Brock said.

When they arrived back to their house, which was only a short drive down the road, they found Eevee outside, sitting on the front porch. She ran up to greet Misty and Brock as they got out of the truck, and the police officers entered the house first, while Misty lifted Eevee into her arms and they followed inside.

"Misty, stay here by the front door. Once we clear this room, do not turn your back on the rest of the house for a second, alright?" Brock told her, and she nodded nervously.

"Alright," she said, and he kissed her briefly.

They cleared the entire bottom half of the house, then went upstairs to the bedrooms. They started with Fiona's room, checking her closet, under her bed, behind her door. Nothing. Next, they moved to the guest bedroom. Nothing but Rose's things, and the closet was open, but nothing in there was suspicious looking, not at first sight anyway.

Then, they went into Misty and Brock's bedroom, and Brock was dreading what he might find in there. Their bed was unmade, of course, their closet door was swung wide open and Brock got a chill. Neither of them ever left their closet door open. Misty had a phobia about closets, and he just thought it looked untidy, but there it was, wide open.

The other officers checked the bathroom, but Brock knew something was wrong with the closet. He went over to it and peered inside, moving the clothes around. Then he saw it, and he knew the officers weren't going to believe what he found.

...

Tracey ran as fast as he could through the forests that surrounded Pewter City. He was in Viridian Forest, he knew, because of all the signs posted to certain trails and the best place to catch wild Pokemon. He had to get out of this area, anyone could spot him. A kid out training, a couple taking a walk on the trails, a police officer.

His legs were burning though and the air was very cold. So cold he could see his breath in front of him. After being couped up in a closet for nearly three months, his muscles had felt like jello and his lack of food meant his lack of strength.

The forest was so deep it seemed like it was night time, hardly any sunlight shone through the trees. If he could just get to Pallet Town and catch a ferry, he could be in the Orange Islands by sundown. No one would find him there. And he knew exactly who would protect him.

Professor Ivy.

She hated Misty. He knew that much. She hated her since the moment she saw her and Brock out on the beach, the same night he had seen them and had taken his first sketch of Misty's lovely face. She would protect him.

Viridian City was crowded, but Tracey had learned along time ago never to act like an outlier. He found a spot to rest, a small cafe right next to Giovanni's gym. He ordered a muffin and a coffee and let his muscles relax. He was sweating, and his whole body burned from the exertion he had put himself under, but he was grateful for the food, the freedom, and the fresh air.

After almost an hour of relaxation, Tracey knew he couldn't stay in one spot for long, but he knew the route to Pallet Town was a long one, so his next stop was a bike shop, and he dug into his pockets, pulling out the wad of cash the Rose Vaughn had given him just three days prior, for emergencies. And this was an emergency.

The bike owner was grateful for the cash, and he hadn't asked for too much I.D. Tracey sped away from Viridian City, straight to Pallet Town, which ran a ferry every day from Pallet to Miken Island and from there he could get to Valencia.

Trees sped by him, wind whipped his face for nearly an hour until he finally came up Professor Oak's laboratory, and just down the street from that, Delia Ketchum's house. He remembered what had happened in that house. How he had heard Misty's cries of ecstacy when she had cheated on him with Brock, and how he had been shot almost to death and his blood had stained Delia's floor so heavily that she had to replace her entire kitchen floor.

How he had shot Gary Oak, simply because he was angry.

He closed his eyes. He couldn't think about that right now. The Ferry was leaving in 20 minutes, and he had to make it. It was his only ticket to freedom.

...

"Oh, Jesus," Officer Stone said, shining a flashlight into the closet. The back wall had been cut out -carved out, actually- big enough for a human being to crawl into. Brock discovered that the hole he had cut into wasn't just a hole, but a tunnel, and it took him a second to recognize that through this tunnel, he could see directly into the guest bedroom. His light shined on the dresser that Rose had been using in the other room.

"Oh, Holy shit," Brock said, in disbelief. "This hole...or tunnel...it leads into our guest bedrooms."

"I'm going to go down and get Mrs. Harrison. The house is clear. We're positive," Officer Stone said, and left the other officer in with Brock. He had crawled inside his own closet now, and squeezed himself inside the tunnel. He was afraid of what he might find. Human feces. Human urine. Maybe even a dead body...but surprisingly, he found nothing. Nothing except an evelope, which his hand had landed on in the dark.

It was a large yellow envelope, it's bulkiness made it hard to manuever through the tunnel, but just as he was almost at the end of the tunnel and about to enter the closet in the guest bedroom, he discovered a tunnel off to the side.

Oh, God, no, no, no! The tunnel led to Fiona's room, and his stomach churned as he started down that path, and sure enough, he found himself in Fiona's closet, her wall also was able to be known down. He stood up in her closet and exited into her room, carrying the envelope with him. The officer looked confused when he saw Brock out in the hallway.

"How did you?"

"There's a tunnel system between these three rooms, it seems." Brock said. "I found this...it's an envelope. I didn't open it, I don't know if you could use it for evidence or not."

Detective Stone came up with Misty and Fiona a moment later, and as Brock took his family into his arms, the officers went into the bedroom again and opened the envelope. Sketches on thick white paper scattered onto the bed, and Officer Stone's blood ran cold.

They were all of Misty.

Some were of her in the shower, some of them were here getting dressed or making love, or sleeping. Most of them were drawn when she was nude, and the officers found themselves staring, amazed at the almost photograph-like art work and the skill that it took to do it this well.

Then, the last one, looked like it was done in a hurry, though very recognizable. Her eyes were wide open, and her stomach was gutted out, a fetus lay beside her body, and an image of terror was on her face. Her long, red hair was matted with blood. The younger officer started to cry, but Officer Stone scolded him.

"No crying. If you need to leave, contain yourself, come back in. Don't let them see your crying. They have a child." He told him, and the other officer excused himself to the bathroom to get the horrible drawing out of his mind.

Misty and Brock entered the room, and Officer Stone motioned to the pictures on the bed. He didn't show them the last picture, not until they had time to digest what was in those envelopes.

Misty blushed. "They're all of me..."

"Yes," Officer Stone said. "He was living in your closet, drawing pictures of you, probably fantasizing..."

"He's gone now," Brock told her, comfortingly. "I went through the whole closet, through the tunnels he created. He's gone. He fled."

"Have you caught him yet?" Misty asked, hoping he would say yes. She didn't want to live in fear.

"Not yet, Mrs. Harrison," Officer Stone said, and they both sensed he had more to say. "There is one more picture I want to show you, but it's not beautiful like the others. I mean that as a compliment to you, Mrs. Harrison."

Misty blushed, and then her eyes met the Officer's and she wrapped her arms around Brock even tighter. "What is it?"

"It's a gruesome picture and I'm only showing you because we need you to know all the evidence we have..." he pulled out the last picture and both Misty and Brock stared down at it with disgust.

Misty shrieked and buried her face into Brock's chest, and Brock could only stand to look at it for a few seconds before he, too, turned away.

"What the fuck? Why would he draw that?" Brock asked.

Officer Stone shook his head, his fellow officer walked out of the bathroom. "I don't know, Mr. Harrison. But we promise you, we're going to find him. We won't stop until we do."

...

Rose had returned home by the weekend, bringing with her tons of pictures of Daisy's new baby. Misty had acknowledged how cute her new nephew was, of course, but she hadn't seemed as happy as she normally did about it. At first, Rose chalked it up to pregnancy hormones, but when Misty left the room to give Fiona her bath, Brock looked over at her.

"Rose, I don't want to scare you, but we discovered something while you were gone," Brock told her, and he explained everything. Tracey Sketchit stalking Misty, the connected tunnels in between their closets, which was going to cost him a lot of money to fix. He told her about the drawings, even the gruesome one that depicted Misty's murder.

"If I ever see that son of a bitch, I really will kill him," Brock said, his anger was apparent. "He better hope the police find him before I do."

"The police are after him?" Rose asked.

"Hot on his trail," Brock nodded, gratefully. "They say he fled south, towards Pallet, but they have alerted police everywhere. Even in Johto and Hoenn. The bastard isn't getting away with what he's done."

Rose nervously played with her hands in her lap and she stood up. "I must be going to bed soon. I've traveled all day."

"Of course. Just try to relax. He's gone now." He smiled at her and she smiled back. Brock was so handsome, so charismatic, so charming. That's why she felt sympathy for Tracey, who tried so hard to get the girl he loved, and he had failed because he was competing in a competition he couldn't win.

Where could he have gone? Why did he give into his desires? She told him not to, she knew this would happen. He had always been a compulsive boy, and now he was really in trouble. She tried to reach him on his cell phone, but it was no longer in service. She had bought him a phone a long while ago while he was at the hospital, but Tracey had failed to maintain his bill, and now he was out there, somewhere without a way to contact her.

Rose fell into bed, and smelled the pillow where Flint Harrison used to lay. It still smelled like him and she began to cry. The men in her life always disappeared. That's why she was so jealous of her daughter, who was young, beautiful, a great mother, and had a handsome husband that wouldn't leave her for anything or anyone in the world.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Thanksgiving had arrived, and it was a very cold day, even a light dust of snow had fallen over the city. As usual, Thanksgiving was held at Brock's house. Delia, Ash and Samual Oak traveled up from Pallet Town to have dinner. And Misty's sisters, and their families also came. By six o'clock the entire house was filled with people, and everyone was there, except for Flint Harrison.

Football was on the television screen, and Brock plopped down next to Todd Snap, who was enthralled in the game, while his wife, Lily, had went upstairs to change their babies diapers. Violet's husband, Lance, came in and sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace.

"Whose winning?" He asked.

"Pewter Golems are down by two against the Cinnabar Magmars," Brock said, shaking his head. "Our city has had the shittiest team this year."

Todd smiled. "My hometown has done pretty well. They might be on their way to the superbowl. The Cerulean Seals have been doing pretty well, too, this year. They might be a contender."

Lance smiled over at Brock. "I hear you and Misty are going to have another little bundle."

"We are," Brock said, happily. "She's due in May."

"Violet and I want to have another," Lance said, eyeing his six year old daughter,Taylor, who was playing with Fiona's barbie dolls in the middle of the floor. "I can't quite convince her that now is the right time though. She's so afraid of being overshadowed by Misty's pregnancy and Lily and Daisy's new baby. Everyone's having a new baby, and she just doesn't want us all to be popping out kids at the same time."

Brock laughed. "We're busy dudes."

"I think it has something to do with the women in that family," Todd said, grinning. "They have really high sex drives.

Brock nudged him. "Consider yourself lucky. I've had Rose living here since August, and I'm lucky if I get laid at least once a week since she's been here. She caught us the first day she was here, and ever since then, Misty's been a little reluctant."

He left out the part about Tracey Sketchit stalking them. This was supposed to be a fun time, and he'd prefer not to think about it.

"Women are funny like that," Lance said, then he looked up and saw Daisy's husband, Gary Oak, come around the corner. Daisy and Gary had gotten together shortly after Brock, Misty and Ash had left for Pallet Town, and what started off as a casual fling turned into a repeated travels for Gary back to Cerulean City to see Daisy.

She turned up pregnant just 10 months ago, and so they had gotten married, and no one was really sure they really loved eachother or not, but their baby was adorable.

"Sorry guys, I got caught up in baby talk with the women," he laughed and sat down next to Brock. "Everyone is trying to rub your wife's belly like a crystal ball."

Brock chuckled and sipped his drink. "I haven't even felt the baby move yet. We're supposed to find out the sex of the baby after the new year."

"I hope it's a boy," Gary said. "That way, little Darren can have a friend who has something in common with him. I like that Fiona and Taylor are close in age and can play together."

"Yea," Brock agreed. "Fiona lost a little friend at school this past fall and it's been hard on her trying to make new friends."

Misty walked into the room and placed her hands on Brock's shoulders. "Hey Honey, dinner is almost ready."

"You need any help?" Brock asked.

"No, Delia's helping set the table," Misty said, kissing her cheek. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Todd!" Lily's voice called from the kitchen and Todd stood up.

Lance laughed at him. "The wife is calling!"

Brock made whip sounds as Todd got up and left the room. Misty rolled her eyes.

"Do you guys make sounds like that at Brock when I call for him?"

"No!" Brock said, before anyone could answer. "I still have my balls. I'm not pussywhipped."

"Yes you are," Gary said, nodding his head. "If Misty asked you to do something right now you'd do it."

"I'm watching football," Brock said, grinning, and looking up at Misty, who was sitting on the back of the couch. She smiled and brushed her lips across his ear.

"Brock," she said, softly.

"Yea?" He asked, feeling his skin tighten with goosebumps.

"Can you get Fiona washed up for dinner, please?" She asked, in her most sweet-sounding voice. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes and he heard Lance and Gary making whipping sounds at him.

"Alright, alright. Fine. Here, Misty, you can have my balls back," he stood up and kissed her. "I'll have Fiona down in a few minutes."

Gary laughed and both him and Lance followed Misty back into the kitchen. Everything smelled so good, and looked even better. Gary noticed his grandfather's phone ring, and he politely took himself outside to answer it.

Brock had come back down with Fiona, and entered the kitchen after checking the score of the game on the television. A few minutes later, Samual Oak returned inside and Delia kissed him on his cheek, but noticed he seemed distracted.

"Are you alright, Sam?" She asked, as they all started to sit down at the table for dinner.

"I'm fine, it's just..." he plopped down in a chair, almost as if his legs were too weak to stand. Everyone was silent, except for the children, who were still giggling at something or another. All eyes were on Sam, and he looked up at all of them. "Professor Ivy called me..."

Misty's face went grim, and Brock immediately put his arm around her, as if telling her not to worry or get upset.

"What did she want?" Brock asked.

"She wanted to wish me a happy Thanksgiving...and..." he paused for a moment, as if trying to process something. "And I heard Tracey Sketchit in the background."

Rose quietly excused herself from the room and rushed upstairs, grabbing her cell phone from the dresser. She dialed Felina Ivy's number, she had it since she was a gym leader all those years ago, and she hoped the number was still the same. After three rings, someone picked up, and it was one of her assistants.

"Hello?" It was Hope, the youngest one, and the one who had a huge crush on Brock.

"Hope," Rose spoke into the phone quietly. "It's Rose Vaughn. I can't be on the phone too long, I just need to ask you something..."

"Yes, Ma'am?" Hope asked.

"Is Tracey Sketchit there?" She asked, hopeful and she heard the girl hesitate for a moment.

"He just arrived this morning, but he's not telling anyone he's here. Do you know why that is?"

Rose smiled and nodded her head. "I'm flying out there tomorrow. I'll explain everything."

...

The next morning, Brock awoke later than usual, and Misty was still asleep beside him though. It was just past 10 A.M. and a thick blanket of snow had now covered the city. He got out of bed and found that his daughter was downstairs in the living room, playing the Wii U, still dressed in her fleece pajamas.

"Hi Daddy," she said, cheerfully. "Want to play Super Smash brothers with me?" She asked, hopeful.

"I will later, Sweetheart. Let me get a cup of coffee in me first," he said, tiredly. The sun glared through the window at him as it spread across the wooden floor in front of the back porch door. "Have you seen your grandma?"

"She left," Fiona said, casually.

"She left?" Brock asked, coming back into the room and sitting next to his daughter. "What do you mean she left? Like to go to the store?"

Fiona shook her head. "She said she was going to the beach."

"The beach?" Brock asked, grinning. "You mean back home to Cerulean City?"

Fiona thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, she was on the phone. She said Val-in-see-ya." She sounded out the name, and Brock's face paled.

She went to Valencia island. She knew. She knew about Tracey and she was traveling out there to see him. To protect him. She hadn't let anyone know she was leaving because she was going out there to protect the son of a bitch!

Brock felt fury rage inside him, and he was determined never to let either of those monsters back around his family.

-End


End file.
